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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30109908">The Placebo Effect</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RabbitRunnah/pseuds/RabbitRunnah'>RabbitRunnah</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Check Please! (Webcomic)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Eventual Happy Ending, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Light Angst, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, fake soulmate au, the fic that dares to ask the question: Are soulmates made or chosen?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:16:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,741</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30109908</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RabbitRunnah/pseuds/RabbitRunnah</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Everybody in Eric Bittle’s family has a soulmate. He’s heard stories about those unlucky people whose marks never come in, and he’s even heard a few stories about people who never connected with their soulmate despite being marked, but the Bittles and Phelpses have never suffered that fate. Until he came along. Eric Bittle doesn't have a soulmark, but that hasn't stopped him from longing for his soulmate.</p><p>Jack Zimmermann has never thought too much about soulmates, even when it was still a possibility for him. He’s not like Bitty, still holding out hope a mark will materialize, proving there’s someone out there just for him. He’s twenty-four. It’s not going to happen.</p><p>When Jack signs with the Falconers, pretending to be soulmates seems like an easy solution for both of them. After all, neither of them really wants to be alone.</p><p>Or, the one where two friends pretend to be soulmates until they realize they're no longer pretending.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>220</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>384</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I have been working on this fake!soulmates fic off and on for an embarrassingly long time (I came up with the title two or three years ago) and it's finally in decent enough shape to begin posting. I plan to post a chapter a week, unless something unexpected happens to knock me off schedule.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Late bloomer.”</p>
<p>The doctor’s words shouldn’t feel like a death sentence, yet they do. Eric Bittle is sitting on the exam table, hearing the words he’s heard his whole life, only this time they aren’t in reference to his height or his slow-to-appear wisdom teeth or his unfortunate lack of facial hair. Eric Bittle is 18 years old, two weeks out from leaving for college, and the soulmark that should have shown up around the time he was 13 still has yet to make an appearance.</p>
<p>“You know,” Dr. Evans begins sympathetically, “it’s rare but it is possible that—”</p>
<p>Eric cuts her off with a hand raised in the universal signal for “stop.” He doesn’t want to hear what he knows she’s thinking: that the reason he still doesn’t have a soulmark is because he doesn’t have a soulmate out there waiting for him. He’s glad he’s old enough to make his own doctor’s appointments; what would Mama say if she were here right now?</p>
<p>Dr. Evans concludes the physical by handing him some pamphlets about STDs and substance abuse. “Some things to remember,” she says, “now that you’re heading off to college.” Somehow, discussing sex and drugs with his childhood pediatrician is less humiliating than discussing his lack of a soulmate.</p>
<p>The paper layer between himself and the exam table crinkles as Eric slides off and begins dressing, pulling on his too-big “seniors” t-shirt and stepping into his shorts. When he looks at himself in the mirror he sees what he always sees: a too short, too skinny kid who still looks like a high school freshman. His absent soulmark is just another box to check off on the list of all the ways he’s failed to measure up.</p>
<p>Eric stops at the grocery store on his way home. Mama’s car is in the garage, but Coach is still out. The football team started two-a-days last week and he won’t be home until right before dinner. Eric sets his grocery bags down on the kitchen counter and begins removing their contents. Butter, flour, a bag of apples … all of those can stay out. He sets about putting the rest of his purchases in the pantry and freezer.</p>
<p>“Thank you for getting the groceries,” Mama says, coming into the kitchen at the sound of the refrigerator door beeping because he’s left it open too long. She quietly closes it. “Did you have enough money on your debit card?”</p>
<p>Eric nods. “Butter was on sale, two-for-one. Raisin Bran, too.”</p>
<p>Mama’s quiet for a second. “Lord, it didn’t hit me until just now, but you’ll be gone before we can use all that butter.”</p>
<p>“I think I’m going to make a pie right now,” Eric says. “That’ll take care of some of it.” He slides his thumb under the seal on the butter box and shakes two sticks out.</p>
<p>“How was your physical?” Mama asks. “All cleared for the NCAA?”</p>
<p>“All clear,” Eric says, full of false cheer. “I’ll probably have to have another physical from the team physician when I get to campus, but she said my heart sounded healthy and all of my vaccinations are up to date.” He doesn’t really feel like discussing the physical right now.</p>
<p>“Did she say anything about—”</p>
<p>“No, Mother,” Eric cuts her off. He knows she’s only concerned. He’s an only child, and one of his parents’ biggest worries is that something will happen to them and he’ll be left alone. <em>They should have had more kids if they’re so worried</em>, Eric thinks, but of course that’s mean. He knows his parents wanted more than one child, and that it didn’t happen for them isn’t their fault, just like his not having a soulmark isn’t his. Everybody has disappointments to bear.</p>
<p>That knowledge doesn’t make it any easier.</p>
<p>Mama reaches up and gives his shoulder a little squeeze. “I’m sure it will happen soon, sweetheart. You know, my uncle Bill didn’t get his mark until after his twenty-first birthday. Some things just take a little time.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>Everybody in Eric’s family has a soulmate. He’s heard stories about those unlucky people whose marks never come in, and he’s even heard a few stories about people who never connected with their soulmate despite being marked, but the Bittles and Phelpses have never suffered that fate. It’s a source of pride on both sides of the family. Eric’s parents were both 13 when their marks came in, 20 when they met for the first time at a college party, 21 when their marks settled and they realized they were soulmates. Mama says she should have known sooner, since her mark often took the shape of a football before it settled on the vaguely tulip-shaped mark she and Eric’s football coach father both sport. Eric’s not really sure why some soulmate pairs figure it out right away and others know each other years and years, but he does know the first step is actually having a mark. When Eric moves into his new dorm at Samwell University, his body is still blank.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Jack Zimmermann is just about the handsomest man Eric has ever seen, but he is 100 percent off limits.</p>
<p>The first reason being that Jack hates him.</p>
<p>The second reason being that Eric doesn’t have a soulmate (<em>yet</em>, he tells himself, because there’s still a chance), so there’s no way anything will ever happen between them anyway.</p>
<p>Not that he’s given much thought to his soulmate, or lack thereof, since arriving at Samwell. Maybe because pre-season conditioning, getting to know the rest of the team, and his four classes are taking up the space in his brain he might otherwise use to dwell on his delayed soulmark. Or maybe it’s because nobody else here seems to be all that preoccupied with finding their soulmate, either. Back in Madison, it was a frequent topic of conversation during homeroom or at lunch, particularly because it was always an event when two people who had known each other forever discovered they had matching marks. Even more exciting was when somebody would go on a band trip or to an away game and return with a long distance soulmate.</p>
<p>Here, he’s only met one confirmed soulmate pair: Ransom and Holster, the SMH D-men who have taken him under their wings and given him his hockey nickname: Bitty. If there are other soulmate pairs at Samwell, they don’t talk about it the way Ransom and Holster do. Maybe there really is something to “One in four, maybe more,” a common saying on campus that references the school’s unique status as a sort of haven for students who don’t have soulmarks. It’s not the only reason Bitty chose Samwell, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t thinking about it when he was narrowing down his list of schools with hockey programs.</p>
<p>But it turns out it’s really not a big deal. Bitty’s biggest problem is working through the physicality issue that’s been haunting him since his peewee football days. It’s not only causing problems in practice, it’s causing problems with his captain. Jack lives and breathes hockey and Bitty doesn’t know him that well but he can tell it <em>means </em>more to Jack than any of their other teammates. Yet again, Bitty just doesn’t measure up.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The early morning checking practices Jack insists on putting Bitty through rattle his bones and leave him with bruises, even with all the protective gear he dons in preparation. Sometimes he feels sick and dizzy afterward and that’s when Jack hands him a boxed shake and repeats something about needing to replace calories and electrolytes. It feels a little like getting a juice box after football practice when he was eight, except Jack doesn’t give him a sort of pitying smile the way Mrs. Bell used to and tell him with unconvincing false cheer that he “looked good out there.” He’s also much easier on the eyes than he remembers Mrs. Bell being, although Bitty will never admit that part out loud. Jack is his captain; he’s just doing what he needs to do to make the team better. The extra attention doesn’t mean anything beyond that. Jack is older anyway. He’s probably already found his soulmate.</p>
<hr/>
<p>As the spring semester comes to an end another pair of teammates—Bitty’s fellow frogs, Ollie and Wicky—announce they’re soulmates. Honestly, with the way they’re always together it felt kind of inevitable. Bitty’s happy for them. Really, he is.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The summer after freshman year is a special kind of torture. Bitty has always loved his extended family’s big Fourth of July celebration, but among the prying questions he’s asked about “that school up north” is if he’s met his soulmate there. He doesn’t bother to tell them he can’t exactly find his soulmate until he has a soulmark, and there’s still no news on that front. So he just says it’s a big school, and hockey keeps him plenty busy, so he hasn’t had much time to socialize outside the team. The second part, at least, is true.</p>
<p>It’s a relief to return to Samwell a little early, where he busies himself with fixing up the Haus and reacquainting himself with the ice. The latter is a lot; all it took was one bad hit at the end of last season to undo all the progress he made in checking practice with Jack. Jack doesn’t seem to mind, though. He’s nicer this year, friendlier. Maybe that check undid something in Jack, too. They’ve started checking practice again and it’s been helping.</p>
<p>What doesn’t help is that at some point, Bitty’s attraction to Jack morphs into a full-blown crush. Bitty blames it on the class they’re taking together. Sitting next to Jack, studying with Jack, <em>baking</em> with Jack … they’ve been sort-of friends long enough that Bitty knows Jack’s hockey robot facade is just a front for his anxiety and insecurity, but when they’re in the kitchen together, baking and laughing, the new feelings that manifest in a haze of flour and well-timed chirps conspire to knock Bitty off his feet.</p>
<p>It’s dangerous to fall for somebody Bitty knows he’ll never be able to have. He channels his frustration into checking practice, taking it out on Jack in the only way he knows how. It’s unfair, but the whole situation is unfair.</p>
<p>Jack notices and compliments Bitty on his “hustle.”</p>
<p>Whatever it is, it’s working. Bitty gets bumped back up to Jack’s line and they’re both playing better than ever. Even their coaches are amazed at how in sync they are. Bitty’s not sure if that makes his crush more or less bearable; it’s nice to know Jack depends on him, but it feels like the world’s biggest consolation prize.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Bitty’s just putting a pie in the oven when he hears commotion just outside the kitchen. He pulls his earbuds out and follows the noise into the living room, where Lardo’s pulling bottles of cheap champagne out of plastic Stop &amp; Shop bags and Shitty is madly gesturing to Lardo and breathlessly trying to announce … something.</p>
<p>“Dude, <em>what</em>?” Ransom asks, pausing the video game he and Holster have been playing all evening.</p>
<p>“<em>Soulmate</em>!” Shitty finally gasps out as Lardo peels the foil off the top of the champagne bottle. “Lards and I, I don’t know how we didn’t figure it out before. We’re soulmates!”</p>
<p>Suddenly everybody is laughing and and Bitty’s pulled into a giant group hug, oven mitts still on. Jack wanders down from his room and joins in; he gives Lardo a warm hug and slaps Shitty on the back and says, “Knew you’d figure your stuff out eventually.”</p>
<p>Bitty wants to be happy for his friends, and he is, but seeing Shitty and Lardo so happy right now only reminds him that he’ll never have this moment for himself. He waits the appropriate amount of time, allows Shitty to refill his champagne glass twice before slipping away. He collapses onto his bed and curls up around Señor Bun, facing the wall.</p>
<p>He thinks he’s escaped unnoticed but leave it to Jack to find him. “What’s the matter, Bittle, the champagne get to you?” He feels the mattress shift under Jack’s weight.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Jack says when Bitty doesn’t acknowledge his presence. “Did something happen down there? I was just joking about the champagne but if you’re feeling sick—”</p>
<p>Bitty shifts again to face Jack, who’s now stretched out next to him. Jack is long and solid and his soft sweatpants (they came in a package from his parents, so Bitty’s certain they’re expensive) are a hair short, exposing surprisingly delicate ankles. “It’s not—”</p>
<p>Jack waits.</p>
<p>“I don’t have a soulmark,” Bitty finally confesses. He’s never told anybody at Samwell, but tonight he doesn’t feel like sitting alone with it. “I’ve been trying to come to terms with it, be okay knowing that I’m never gonna have a person, but sometimes it’s hard. Right now it’s hard.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” Jack says. His face does something complicated.</p>
<p>“I’m <em>happy</em> for Shitty and Lardo,” Bitty clarifies. “Please don’t think I’m not happy for them. I’m just having a rough night, that’s all.”</p>
<p>Neither speaks for a long, long time. Bitty can hear the party downstairs and Holster’s loud <em>whoop </em>when Shitty announces it’s time to bring out the tub juice. Finally, just when Bitty thinks Jack must have fallen asleep, he speaks. “I don’t have a soulmark either.”</p>
<p>“You?” It seems impossible, that the golden child of a golden couple doesn’t have a soulmark.</p>
<p>“I kind of used it as a license for, uh, a lot of my behavior back in Juniors.”</p>
<p>“Parson?” Bitty doesn’t like the way his heart twists at that, but he’s heard the rumors.</p>
<p>“Among others. There were a few other boys. And girls. I don’t remember most of them. I’m not proud of the things I did back then. I wasn’t … well. And then after … everything … I just thought it made sense.”</p>
<p>“And now?”</p>
<p>Jack shrugs with one shoulder. “I try not to think about it. I got another chance to play hockey. That’s my future. Ransom and Holster aren’t far off the mark when they say my soulmate is hockey.”</p>
<p>“That seems real … lonely.”</p>
<p>“Not really. I have you. And Shitty and Lardo and the rest of the guys. But it does make it easier, in some ways. I’m going to play hockey professionally. I don’t know how I’ll fit another person into that life. It just seems easier if I don’t have to think about it.”</p>
<p>“Your parents, though. Your parents managed.” Bitty refuses to believe that Jack is so jaded that he thinks finding love is an impossibility. If Jack Zimmermann doesn’t believe he deserves a happily ever after just because he doesn’t have a soulmark, what does that say about Bitty? Does Jack believe he’s unlovable, too?</p>
<p>Jack huffs out a sigh. “Yeah.”</p>
<p>“Do they know about you?”</p>
<p>Jack’s bangs fall into his eyes when he nods and Bitty has to resist the urge to brush them back. If he touches Jack right now, he might break. “They do. They kind of found out when I was in the hospital.”</p>
<p>“Are they okay with it?”</p>
<p>Another nod. “My parents aren’t like some people. I think there’s somebody in my dad’s family—a great uncle, maybe—who was markless. He and his wife were married for 60 years; they had three kids. Most people never knew they weren’t soulmates.”</p>
<p>“My parents wouldn’t be like that,” Bitty says. “They’re pretty traditional. And everybody in my family has a mark.”</p>
<p>“Bittle, your parents haven’t … they wouldn’t kick you out because you don’t have a soulmark, would they?” Jack sounds genuinely stricken.</p>
<p>Bitty sighs. “No. They aren’t <em>that</em> awful. They know we exist. Mama has a friend who got her mark in high school and fell in love with a markless man in college, before she met her soulmate. They’re still together but her whole family shunned her. My parents aren’t that bad but I’m not sure they’d approve if I wanted to be with somebody who wasn’t my soulmate.”</p>
<p>“Even if you never get your mark?”</p>
<p>Bitty snorts. “They’d just say ‘everything happens for a reason’ and that would be that. Better to live alone than in sin. Really, I think they’re in denial about me.”</p>
<p>“I bet there are a lot of markless or mismatched people who live happily together and we just never know because they never say anything.”</p>
<p>“Maybe,” Bitty concedes. “It would just be nice to know there’s somebody out there for me.”</p>
<p>Jack doesn’t say anything, just rests a hand on Bitty’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze. But he doesn’t take it away, and he doesn’t leave, and Bitty doesn’t break. He stays with Bitty into the night, until long after the party downstairs has ended.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Bitty doesn’t date. He doesn’t see the point. He knows he’s in the minority. At Samwell, it’s not uncommon for marked people to hook up, or even have longterm relationships, with people they know aren’t their soulmate. But Bitty doesn’t want that. He’s still holding out hope that something will change, that his mark will materialize and point him toward his true love, who has been patiently waiting for him all this time.</p>
<p>“You don’t actually believe all that bullshit, do you?” Shitty asks as they walk back to the Haus after practice. Bitty has just explained why he doesn’t want to be set up with somebody for Winter Screw. “Relationships take work, even for soulmates. And you know monogamy isn’t some sort of prerequisite. Lardo and I are committed to each other now, but we both dated other people before we figured it out. And look at Rans and Holster. They figured it out the day they met, and that hasn’t stopped them from going out with March and April.</p>
<p>Bitty doesn’t completely understand the arrangement Ransom and Holster have with each other, <em>or</em> with March and April, but he knows it’s not for him.</p>
<p>“Bittle is from Georgia,” Jack says, the first time he’s spoken this entire conversation. “It’s different there.”</p>
<p>“Okay, so you’ve internalized a lot of ‘traditional’ —” Shitty exasperatedly makes air quotes—“soulmate lore. Now it’s up to you to undo that and learn to accept that the things you were taught aren’t necessarily true.”</p>
<p>Next to him, Jack sighs. “Lay off him, Shits. He doesn’t want a relationship that has no hope of going anywhere. There’s nothing wrong with that.”</p>
<p>Bitty shoots Jack a grateful look. Jack <em>gets</em> it. Maybe for the wrong reasons, but he gets it. Maybe they’re not so different after all.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jack never thought too much about soulmates, even when it was still a possibility for him. For most of his life his brain didn’t hold space for anything beyond hockey. By the time he realized he still didn’t have a soulmark, it was almost an afterthought. Now his absence of a mark just <em>is</em>. He’s not like Bitty, still holding out hope his mark will materialize, proving there’s someone out there just for him. He’s twenty-four. It’s not going to happen.</p><p>But that just makes it easier to justify his singleminded pursuit to make it in the NHL. At least, it <em>was</em> easier. Now Jack isn’t sure. Lately, he’s begun to wonder if there’s more to life than hockey.</p><p>As with most things that have forced him out of his comfort zone in the past year and a half, he blames Bittle.</p><hr/><p>With Ransom and Holster and now Shitty and Lardo as confirmed soulmates, Jack and Bitty have become sort of the unofficial third couple of the Haus, pairing off naturally when the situation requires it. But they seek each other out apart from the rest of the group, too. Jack thinks he got to know Bitty pretty well during all their checking practices, but when they study together in Jack’s room it’s hard not to notice things he’s missed: the way Bitty hums to himself when he’s reading, or the way he blushes when Jack catches him trying to hide his phone behind his laptop screen when he’s supposed to be doing homework.</p><p>Bitty’s easy to talk to. He listens to Jack go over the offers he’s received from different teams and helps him make pros and cons lists. Every city has something to be excited about. “Oh, you’d be able to shop at that great farmers market!” Bitty says of Seattle, and “Chicago-style pizza is supposed to be really good!” Underneath it all, he understands that it’s not <em>really</em> about the farmers market or the pizza, that what Jack really needs is reassurance that his choice, whatever it ends up being, won’t disappoint his father.</p><p>Bitty’s easy to not talk to, when Jack doesn’t feel like talking. Sometimes they just lie next to each other on Jack’s bed, watching a movie or reading for their respective classes, and it’s enough. The silence between them never feels empty.</p><p>Bitty’s quickly becoming Jack’s best friend in the Haus.</p><hr/><p>The Providence Falconers want Jack.</p><p>The Providence Falconers want Jack and to prove it, they keep sending their Assistant General Manager, Georgia Martin, out to talk to Jack. This time, instead of meeting over dinner or coffee, she asks him to go for a run.</p><p>“I feel like I’m being courted,” he says when she meets him on the running path near campus. She’s wearing sleek blue leggings that match the blue on her Falconers quarter-zip pullover and her hair under her cap is pulled into a tight ponytail. Her running shoes, Jack notes, have dirt on them and look well-worn. Not a casual jogger, then.</p><p>“You are,” she replies, laughing as they start off at a slow jog. “Strictly platonically, of course. My soulmate and I have been together for a while.”</p><p>“The Olympics, right?” Jack remembers the story. There are always a few Olympic Village hookups that turn out to be the real thing, and it’s always a big deal. George and her husband, a French downhill skier who just missed the podium in ’06, were the subjects of one of those slickly packaged emotional stories that was all over the Olympics coverage when they returned to the Games four years later.</p><p>“You go to the Olympics expecting to get a medal,” George says wryly. “Didn’t get a medal, but I got the guy.”</p><p>Jack huffs out a laugh.</p><p>“You’ll meet him eventually, I hope,” George says, not subtle at all. “He likes it when I sign French-Canadians, even though he’d never admit you speak the same language.”</p><p>“My mother did a semester in Paris and went there for work a lot. She wasn’t prepared for my dad,” Jack says.</p><p>“Well, who could be prepared for <em>the</em> Bad Bob Zimmermann?” George asks, smiling, and it doesn’t chafe the way it might have even a year ago.</p><p>They run at a steady pace for three miles, Jack pointing out campus landmarks as they pass by because it seems like the polite thing to do. George talks about the guys on the team, mentions more than once that their first line center is retiring at the end of the season. The implication is that Jack will get plenty of ice time, which might not be the case if he signs with one the other teams he’s been talking to.</p><p>They’ve almost completed the loop when they run—literally—into Bitty.</p><p>Jack can tell Bitty’s embarrassed by the way he flushes and falls all over himself to apologize but George immediately puts him at ease, complimenting him on his game. She’s good at this. Jack understands why she’s the one they sent to win him over. By the time they part, Bitty has extracted her address and promised to send a pie of her choice.</p><p>“You have to study for finals,” Jack reminds him.</p><p>“So I’ll have plenty of time to make pie,” Bitty sassily retorts, and by now Jack understands that’s Bittle-speak for “I’ll be procrastibaking instead of studying until the night before everything is due.”</p><p>“Okay, but you have to pass your classes to maintain eligibility,” Jack reminds him.</p><p>“And I have to bake if you want maple apple pie for dessert tonight,” Bitty fires back.</p><p>George looks from Bitty to Jack, a funny little smile on her face. “Your personal life is your business,” she says quietly when Bitty is out of earshot, “but I want you to know that our organization takes soulmates seriously. We’ve dealt with various sensitive situations. If you haven’t met your soulmate, we have people to monitor fan activity to make sure nobody tries to come forward with a false soulmate claim. Or, if you have found your soulmate and don’t want to be public about it yet, we can accommodate that, too. As you know, most rookies are very young and a lot of their soulmates aren’t ready for the attention that comes with being the partner of a professional athlete. If, for instance, your soulmate were still in school …”</p><p>Suddenly, the way George reacted to Bitty makes sense. Jack doesn’t know what she thinks she knows, but she doesn’t seem nearly as surprised as he is at the direction this conversation has taken.</p><p>“George, Bittle and I—”</p><p>She places a steadying hand on Jack’s arm. “It’s okay, kid. You don’t have to do anything about it now. It’s just one thing to consider when you’re making your decision. We want you to sign with us because we’ve seen how you lead your team and we think that with you on our first line, it’s just a matter of time before we bring home a Cup. I know you want that, too. But hockey shouldn’t be your whole life; your personal life is just as important. So talk about it with him, let him know we’re here to support both of you if you decide to sign with us.”</p><p>Jack can’t speak, his mind still spinning with the realization that George thinks Bitty is his soulmate. He’s about to tell her she’s mistaken but then the thought comes to him, so obvious he can’t believe he hasn’t thought of it before: what if Bitty <em>could</em> be his soulmate?</p><hr/><p>Jack has always been absolutely certain that he will never have what his parents have. He resigned himself to a solitary life a long time ago. At one point, as he told Bitty, he convinced himself that his lack of a soulmark was a sign he wouldn’t live long enough to find his soulmate. Now he knows that was an excuse that made it more convenient to justify living like he would never have to face consequences.</p><p>Sometimes Jack looks at his parents and wonders what it’s like to be that sure of somebody, to know there’s somebody out there who complements and completes you. He sees it in Shitty and Lardo too, and Ransom and Holster.</p><p>Bitty still believes. He knows he’ll never have a soulmark but he still believes—or wants to believe—there’s somebody out there for him. It makes Jack want to believe, too.</p><hr/><p>Jack makes a pros and cons list.</p><p>The pros: He won’t have to deal with fans finding out the truth about him. There was a pretty high profile story a few years ago, an actor whose public admission he still hadn’t found his soulmate resulted in a flood of false claims. Jack’s markless; if he goes public about his status he might be able to avoid false soulmate claims. But that will inevitably open him up to interest from other mateless people looking for a partner, people who might be interested in him only because he’s a professional athlete. Even if he sticks to set ups by his friends or teammates, like he has for events like Winter Screw, it will be awkward and uncomfortable. Jack has never been good at dating.</p><p>If Bitty were Jack’s soulmate, he’d have a built-in plus-one for events. He’d have somebody to come home to. And once Bitty graduates and has to move out of the Haus, <em>Bitty</em> would have somebody to come home to.</p><p>As the only mateless residents of the Haus, they’ve talked about what their futures might look like. Not frequently, but it’s come up. Jack knows Bitty wants to fall in love, but he also wants a <em>partner. </em>“Somebody to weather the storm with,” is how Bitty put it once. Jack doesn’t really know what those things mean, but he’s fairly certain some amount of romance is involved in addition to the day-to-day aspect of living together—going on dates, celebrating anniversaries with flowers and gifts, cuddling on the couch while watching TV. For Bitty it probably also means having somebody to bake for and with, and after several months of living together in the Haus, Jack can’t say he’s entirely opposed to that idea.</p><p>If a real soulmate isn’t a possibility for Bitty, then maybe Jack can be a good stand-in. He doesn’t know a lot about romance, but he’s pretty sure he can be a good partner. They don’t even have to tell anybody they’re not the real thing. They’re already best friends. Isn’t that enough?</p><p>The cons: Well, whatever you want to call it, it’s still lying.</p><hr/><p>Jack is still turning it over in his mind later that week when he finds Bitty on the roof, gazing out at the campus lights. Making as little noise as possible, Jack climbs out the window and settles down next to him.</p><p>Bitty startles a bit when he hears Jack, his shoulders comically rising toward his ears and relaxing again. Jack places a steadying hand on Bitty’s thigh. “Thought you had homework tonight,” he says conversationally.</p><p>“Ugh,” Bitty groans, leaning into Jack a bit. “I did. Do. But my mother called and I need a minute. Parents, you know?”</p><p>Jack nods. He knows. While he’s closer to his parents than he was a few years ago, lately his calls with his father have left him feeling wrung out and exhausted.</p><p>“She wants to know what my summer plans are because she’s trying to plan a trip out to Florida for my cousin Amanda’s wedding, and she wants to make sure it doesn’t conflict with camp,” Bitty says, unprompted. “I told her I haven’t even committed to counseling this summer and she was all, ‘Well, Dicky, you know they aren’t gonna hold a spot for you forever.’ And I know that, but.” Bitty sighs. “I don’t even know if I <em>want </em>to go back home this summer.”</p><p>“You’re not sure? I thought you always enjoyed going back.”</p><p>Bitty sighs again. “I do. And I don’t. You know? I love being with the kids, but it’s getting harder and harder to go back. All of my camp friends are moving on, they have real jobs or internships this summer. My cousins and friends from high school are all settling down with their soulmates. I want to see my parents and MooMaw and everyone, but every time I go back there I just feel … stuck. Like I’m the only adult still sitting at the kids’ table.”</p><p>“In a couple years you’ll graduate and you won’t be at the kids’ table anymore,” Jack says, trying for levity.</p><p>Bitty huffs out a breath through his nose. “I know. Madison just doesn’t feel like home anymore.”</p><p>Jack understands, he thinks. The house his parents live in isn’t the one he grew up in. They moved into their current place when he was 16 and spending much of his time on the road playing. It wasn’t until after the overdose that he really lived there, and then only for a short time before coming here. The closet thing he has to a home now is this house and these people. And soon he won’t have this anymore, either.</p><p>Next to Jack, Bitty is partially illuminated by the Christmas lights they still haven’t taken down, his eyes large and sad. Bitty is not, in general, a sad person, so it’s always a little unnerving to see him like this. But Jack gets it. Bitty takes great pains to hide this part of himself from their friends, but it must be exhausting to be “on” all the time. For some reason, he feels safe enough to let down his guard with Jack. It cuts both ways: Jack feels safe with Bitty.</p><p>This realization is enough, the thing that tips the needle into the “pro” column.</p><p>Down on the street, a car door slams, jolting Jack out of his reverie. Now. He’s going to ask Bitty now, or else he’s never going to ask him.</p><p>“Bits,” he begins, frantically making the mental calculations as to whether taking Bitty’s hand in his will be interpreted as the meaningful gesture he wants it to be or an over-the-top manipulation, “what if you stay with me for the summer?”</p><p>“I think you have plenty on your plate without taking on a new roommate,” Bitty says cautiously. “Besides, you haven’t even decided who you’re signing with.”</p><p>“I’m signing with the Falconers.” The decision, made in this moment, feels right. “And I don’t mean spending the summer with me as my roommate. I mean … as my soulmate.”</p><p>Bitty is so quiet that Jack can hear two people arguing several blocks away.</p><p>“Bitty?”</p><p>“What are you asking me, Jack?” Bitty asks, voice breaking. “Or, I guess, <em>why</em> are you asking me this?”</p><p>All of a sudden, Jack’s pros and cons list goes out the window. He cuts to the quick of it: “You don’t want to go home. I don’t have any interest in dating. And when people find out I don’t have a soulmate, they’ll expect me to date.” He’s aware how unromantic this sounds. “Both of us have always assumed we’ll end up alone, but maybe we don’t have to.”</p><p>“Is this a … proposal? Are you proposing to me?” Bitty doesn’t sound excited, just confused, which is fair. This wasn’t well thought out at all. Jack never should have said anything. “And you chose the Falconers? <em>When</em>? Were you even gonna tell us? I would have made a pie!”</p><p>Jack smiles at that. “Er, tonight, actually. Georgia Martin said the Falcs are able to offer me just about everything I want. And they want me. And it’s not too far from here. If you…”</p><p>“It would solve both of our problems, wouldn’t it?” Bitty quietly says, more to himself than Jack.</p><p>“It would be just for the summer, obviously. But if it works out … we can make it permanent after you graduate.”</p><p>“Jack.” Bitty’s giggling now but it’s not his happy giggle. “<em>Jack</em>. You know what we’d be getting into, don’t you? Aside from having to convince everyone that we’re actually soulmates … it’s kind of forever, you know? You should be sure about what we’re getting into before you go inviting me to spend the rest of my life with you.”</p><p>“I’m sure.” Jack’s never been more sure of anything. He could easily spend the rest of his life with Bitty, he realizes. Between the Falcs and Bitty, he suddenly feels his whole future slotting into place. Jack’s best moments on the ice have always come when he acts on instinct, when he doesn’t overthink the play and just shoots. This feels right. It all feels right.</p><p>Bitty twists toward Jack, bracing himself against the roof with one hand so he doesn’t slip. “You can’t give up your whole life for me,” he says, like he’s trying to talk Jack—or himself—out of it.</p><p>“I’m not,” Jack says matter-of-factly.</p><p>“<em>Jack</em>—” The more calm Jack feels about this, the more certain he feels that this is <em>right</em>, the more panicked Bitty sounds. “Jack, if we go public with this, that’s it. Do you want one decision you make in the heat of the moment to define your entire future? What’ll happen when you get tired of me? How will we explain it to everyone?”</p><p>Once upon a time, Jack did make a decision in the heat of the moment and it did determine his entire future. It led him here. “What makes you think <em>I’ll</em> get tired of <em>you</em>?” he asks.</p><p>“Oh. Because …” Bitty can’t seem to think of a good answer to Jack’s question.</p><p>“Because I’m the one who’s difficult to live with. I get moody and irritable. I’ll hardly be home. I’m probably going to get traded at some point.” Fuck, Bitty’s right. Who would willingly sign up for all of this if they didn’t have to?</p><p>“I know exactly how moody you can get. You’re my best friend.”</p><p>Bitty’s voice is warm now, affectionate. He knows Jack better than maybe anybody except for Shitty, and even then there are some things Bitty knows that Shitty doesn’t. Jack thinks, again, that this feels right. It’s not that a hard choice, not when it’s Bitty.</p><p>“And you’re mine. If I can’t spend forever with my soulmate, why shouldn’t I spend it with my best friend?”</p><p>“Lord, Jack Zimmermann, what am I gonna do with you?” Bitty breathes.</p><p>Jack rests his hands on Bitty’s shoulders and closes some of the distance between them, until their foreheads are almost touching. Anybody looking up at them from the street might mistake them for a couple.“You don’t have to do anything with me,” he says. “Just say yes.”</p><p>Bitty doesn't pull away. That's a good sign. He's trembling, a little, when he puts his hand on Jack’s waist, but his voice is warm, a little breathless. “Okay. Yeah, okay. We can do this. Let’s be soulmates.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>At first, when Jack brings up his crazy idea on the roof of the Haus, Bitty thinks he must be mad. Pretending to be soulmates! What a ridiculous idea. He tries to talk him out of it because what does Jack think, that they’ll just set up house and live happily ever after? Who makes a decision like that in the heat of the moment?</p><p>Jack Zimmermann, apparently.</p><p>Jack is a man of few words, but he doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean. Jack never says things he doesn’t mean.</p><p>Bitty trusts him. That hit he took at the end of last season, which he knows Jack blames himself for, could have shaken his faith in Jack. Instead, it’s resulted in the opposite: Bitty knows Jack would never intentionally hurt him.</p><p>That’s why he says yes.</p><hr/><p>“Um.” Bitty grips Jack’s hand in his own and looks at his lap to avoid looking at their friends while he tells the biggest lie of his life. “Jack and I have news.”</p><p>Instantly, four sets of eyes are on Bitty and Jack, who are sitting next to each other in a booth at Jerry’s. It was Jack’s idea to tell their friends first. Bitty’s convinced him to put it off twice but pretty soon everybody will be busy with finals and then Jack and Shitty are graduating. It’s now or never, especially since Bitty’s moving in with Jack as soon as school ends.</p><p>They’re looking at apartments in Providence next weekend. Jack insisted Bitty be involved in the process. “You’re going to be living there too,” he said, “at least part of the time until you graduate. You need to find it just as comfortable as I do. Besides, I don’t know what to look for in a kitchen.”</p><p>Bitty thinks Jack could just as easily ask his parents to help him find an apartment, but he secretly appreciates the gesture. He’s voiced some of his concerns to Jack—he’s still in college, he’s not on the same level financially—but Jack, without being dismissive, always finds a way to alleviate Bitty’s anxiety. “I don’t expect us to split everything fifty-fifty, but we can figure out something more equitable once you’ve graduated, if that’s what you’d prefer. We’re a team,” Jack tells Bitty, and maybe it’s corny to refer to your soulmate as a teammate, but they aren’t <em>really</em> soulmates and it’s <em>so </em>Jack that Bitty can’t help but find it endearing. It’s almost, in its own way, romantic.</p><p>Romance is definitely off the table right now, Bitty thinks, as Ransom and Holster dare each other to drink some awful concoction they’ve created by filling a half-finished cup of coffee with sugar, lemon juice, and Tabasco sauce. But Jack squeezes Bitty’s hand again and Bitty finds his courage.</p><p>“Me and Jack are soulmates,” he announces.</p><p>Holster chokes and sprays lemon Tabasco coffee all over the table. Ransom whacks him on the back. Lardo snorts and Bitty notices Shitty quietly slip her a twenty. He isn’t sure if it’s because of his and Jack’s announcement or Ransom and Holster’s shenanigans. This is why they can’t go anywhere.</p><p>Holster is the first to speak. “Dude, really? I always thought you were both, you know …”</p><p>“Markless,” Ransom finishes as Holster succumbs to another bout of coughing. “I mean, we didn’t want to assume, but you’re both celibate as monks and we figured it was because neither of you has a soulmark.”</p><p>Shitty shoots both of them a look. “Some soulmates’ marks take a while to settle,” he says in that annoyingly authoritative voice he uses when he’s trying to cover for the fact that he’s <em>not</em> actually an authority on the topic at hand. “And others find out later in life that they’re not really markless. My aunt, she always thought she was markless until she met my other aunt and the birthmark on her wrist changed shape and settled. She never knew! That’s probably what happened.” Shitty sounds very convinced by his own story, and Bitty wonders if he buys their story or if he’s just doing a very good job of covering for them. He never told Shitty he’s markless, only that he hadn’t yet found his soulmate. As far as he knows, Jack has never confessed his status to Shitty, either.</p><p>“Right on,” Lardo says, punching Jack in the bicep. “Glad you finally figured it out.”</p><p>“It was a bit of a surprise,” Bitty says, “but we’re both really happy.”</p><p>“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us right away!” Holster whines.</p><p>“We had some things we needed to work out first,” Jack says, truthfully. “Because of my plans for next year.” And that’s when he makes the second announcement of the morning, that he’s signed a contract with the Providence Falconers. It’s official as of yesterday afternoon. Jack doesn’t say a lot as he accepts their friends’ congratulations, but his small smile is enough: Jack is happy.</p><p>They answer a few more questions, mostly about their plans for the summer, if (or when) they’ll make a public announcement, if they plan on getting married (some soulmates never do, as the legal union is just a formality) but overall it goes well and their friends are thrilled for them. Bitty can’t believe how easy it is, that he and Jack just told this massive lie and everybody believes it. But they do. Nobody suspects a thing.</p><hr/><p>Jack’s parents fly out to help him look for an apartment, and if they’re surprised when Bitty joins them for brunch before their appointment with the realtor, they don’t say anything.</p><p>Jack breaks the news this time and Bad Bob looks from Jack to Bitty and back again, eyes slightly narrowed. He seems on the verge of saying something when he’s interrupted by Alicia. “We’re so happy for you boys!” she says, and in the next moment she’s twisting in her chair and flagging down a waiter. “Can we get some mimosas?” she asks. “We’re celebrating this morning.”</p><p>Bob thumps Jack on the back and congratulates him. “Welcome to the family, son,” he tells Bitty, and whatever confusion Bitty thinks he read in his eyes just a second ago has been replaced by genuine warmth. “You know, I had a feeling the first time I saw you play together. You made each other better.”</p><p>Under the table, Jack presses his knee against Bitty’s. He’s getting used to this type of physical contact with Jack, familiar and affectionate. It’s a long way from where they started.</p><hr/><p>“This is just the model; the unit that’s for sale is two floors up,” the realtor, Carol, says as she leads them into a condo in a high rise in downtown Providence. It’s the sixth or seventh place they’ve looked at today. “But the layout is exactly the same, and the view is a little better. The list price includes access to the gym on the seventh floor, the rooftop common area, and one parking spot,” Carol recites, as if reading from a brochure. She hangs back in the open living area with Jack’s parents so Jack and Bitty can look around.</p><p>“Three bedrooms,” Jack murmurs as the make their way down the hall.</p><p>“Maybe we can set one up as an office,” Bitty offers. “You know, so I can edit my videos.” He’s been thinking about vlogging more seriously after he graduates, and he’s decided to put more of an effort into it this summer. What he doesn’t say is that the room he’s been referring to as his “office” in each place they’ve looked at is actually going to be his bedroom. He assumes. They haven’t gotten that far yet, but living together is one thing. Sharing a bed is … definitely not where he and Jack are at right now.</p><p>“Yeah, and we’d still have an extra for guests.” Jack peeks into the hall bathroom. “Is that a bidet?”</p><p>“I don’t think that comes standard,” Bitty whispers back.</p><p>“Boys, there’s an in-unit laundry room!” Alicia yells from somewhere in the condo. Given the amount of laundry two athletes generate, in-unit laundry is a must.</p><p>“Be sure to take a look at the balcony off the master bedroom!” Carol calls.</p><p>“It’s nice,” Jack says, opening the door and stepping outside. “It’ll be nice to sit out here in the summer.”</p><p>“Seems a little sturdier than the Haus reading room,” Bitty says with a smile. He playfully bumps Jack’s shoulder as they take in the view of the city. “Kitchen’s pretty nice, too.”</p><p>“Finally found one that meets your impossible standards?” Jack chirps.</p><p>“Who else is gonna stop you from buying a place with a relic from the 1980s?” Bitty sasses back. “I swear, that oven in that first place we saw was worse than Betsy.”</p><p>“I think I can afford a new oven, if it comes to that.”</p><p>“That whole kitchen has to go,” Bitty says. “And all the carpets, and those awful fixtures in the bathroom. You don’t want to live in a construction zone. Once your season starts you’ll want your time at home to be relaxing.”</p><p>“True, but I still think the guys would have loved those bathroom faucets,” Jack insists. “Might have been worth buying it just for their reactions.”</p><p>“Jack, they looked like penises. I cannot bring my mama and MooMaw home to see <em>that</em>. It’s bad enough your parents had to see ‘em.” To be specific, Bob had pointed to the faucet and suggested they keep it in mind for their own redecoration project, which had resulted in a very red-faced Jack asking his parents to please just look quietly.</p><p>“See, this is why you need to be here,” Jack says, laughing. “To stop me from buying a house with dick faucets.” When Jack smiles like this, Bitty’s heart always does a little flip. He’s been smiling more these days. “You really think this is the one, Bits?”</p><p>“Good location, great kitchen, room for guests, non-phallic faucets… Jack, I think it’s perfect.”</p><p>Jack takes Bitty’s hand in his and loosely tangles their fingers together as they head back to the open concept living room, where his parents and Carol are talking about chair rails. This is the first time they’ve held hands like a real couple. Bitty’s first instinct is to pull away, but the impulse disappears in an instant. Holding hands with Jack feels surprisingly natural.</p><p>The Zimmermanns smile at them and Bitty feels a jolt of guilt for lying like this. He knows Jack’s parents know Jack is markless, but he isn’t sure what they think <em>his</em> story is. Whatever they believe, it clearly doesn’t matter to them. They’re thrilled that Jack and Bitty have found each other, have said so more than once today.</p><p>“According the the management company, the unit will be ready in about two weeks,” Carol says. “If you’re interested, I’d hop on it now. These condos have been selling like hotcakes.”</p><p>Jack looks at Bitty and raises an eyebrow. Bitty nods. “We’ll take it,” Jack says.</p><p>Carol beams. “Wonderful! You know, the best part of my job is when I get to help young couples choose their first home together. I know you’ll be very happy here. I’ll get in touch with the sales office and have them start drawing up the paperwork. We should have it to you later in the week.”</p><p>It all feels completely surreal. Last night Bitty ate in the dining hall with Lardo and Holster, and now he’s talking about signing the paperwork to buy a condo. He’s aware that just a few weeks ago he was telling Jack that he was tired of sitting at the kids’ table (this moment is the direct result of that conversation, he realizes), but now he and Jack are making decisions that will affect their lives for years to come. Bitty starts to feel woozy the way he does right before he faints on the ice.</p><p>“You okay, bud?” Jack whispers as Carol makes notes in her phone. He squeezes Bitty’s hand and Bitty squeezes back to let him know he’s okay.</p><p>Jack leans closer until his mouth is right up against Bitty’s ear. “Do you think it’s too late to ask if they can get some of those faucets for the bathroom?”</p><p>“Mr. Zimmermann!” Bitty hisses, biting down on a giggle. He gently elbows Jack in the ribs to let him know this is <em>not</em> appreciated, but Jack’s chirping has done the trick and set him at ease. Bitty smiles and stands a little straighter. Ready or not, they’re totally doing this.</p><hr/><p>Bitty still hasn’t told his parents he’s not coming home this summer, and Mama’s been bothering him about buying his plane ticket. He waits and waits, until the day before he and Jack are scheduled to sign all of the condo paperwork, and finally tells tells them about him and Jack when he can no longer put it off.</p><p>The news that he’s found his soulmate—that it’s <em>Jack Zimmermann</em>, and they’re going to be living together this summer—certainly softens the blow.</p><p>“Well, <em>he</em> was certainly worth the wait,” Mama says.</p><p>“Good one, Junior,” Coach adds, like Bitty’s just scored a goal.</p><p>Bitty spends the next fifteen minutes answering Mama’s questions with the brief story he and Jack agreed upon: They’ve been close friends for a long time, and around the time they realized they have feelings for each other, they also discovered they have the same soulmark.</p><p>“But Dicky,” Mama says, “you never even told us yours came in!”</p><p>“Oh, well, it just didn’t seem as important. You know, a lot of people here at Samwell don’t have marks and even people who do don’t always make a big deal about it,” Bitty improvises. It’s more or less the truth. “And with being so busy with school and hockey and all, I guess I just forgot to tell y’all.”</p><p>It helps that he can tell them this over the phone so they don’t have to see his face as he outright lies to them.</p><p>“Well, I’m just relieved,” Mama says. “We never wanted you to be alone.”</p><p>“I know, Mama,” Bitty says, wondering if she’d feel any different if she knew he and Jack aren’t really soulmates. That this is all just because he was in the right place at the right time when Jack had some sort of crisis about his future and decided having a fake soulmate was apparently a better option than dating hot models with no strings attached.</p><p>“And of course,” Mama continues, “we know you’ll be getting all settled in your new place with Jack this summer, but you know there’s always a place at the table for <em>both</em> of you whenever you want to visit.” And then, the words Bitty never thought he’d hear: “Do you think you and Jack will be able to make it out for the Fourth?”</p><hr/><p>Bitty takes his last final of the semester on a Thursday morning. That afternoon, he and Jack drive to Providence to sign the paperwork for the condo. They’re officially homeowners. Carol leads them on a final walkthrough of the empty unit and Bitty feels a frisson of excitement surge through him as he imagines these empty rooms filled with furniture, the bare walls decorated with Lardo’s artwork and photos of their friends. The furniture they’ve already picked out, including the pool table Ransom and Holster somehow talked Jack into buying, won’t be here until the day before they move in.</p><p>It’s a little past two when they part ways with Carol. Bitty expects they’ll just head back to the Haus, but Jack turns to him and grins. “There’s a mall nearby. Wanna go pick out some things for the kitchen?”</p><p>Bitty’s about to protest; buying a home (even if he, technically, is just signing all the paperwork) feels like enough for one day. But Jack looks so damn happy, like this is something he really wants to do. And if he’s honest with himself, Bitty really wants it too. It’s not every day a soon-to-be millionaire athlete with a credit card and an empty kitchen offers to take him on a shopping spree. All Jack has to do is say the word.</p><hr/><p>“Explain again what this is?” Jack asks, poking Bitty in the bicep with a slender metal grater attached to a plastic handle.</p><p>“It’s a Microplane.” Bitty picks a garlic press off the shelf, tests its weight in his hand, and puts it back in favor of one that seems more durable. “For grating hard cheeses.”</p><p>“I thought you already had a cheese grater.”</p><p>“And for zesting citrus.” Bitty turns a corner, Jack following closely behind, and stops abruptly when he’s confronted with an entire display of Le Creuset cookware. “Oh!” he gasps.</p><p>“Is this stuff good?” Jack asks, reaching out to touch a bright blue saucepan. “I think my parents have some.”</p><p>“It’s the best. Enameled cast iron retains heat really well and you can use it on the stove or in the oven.” Bitty’slost hours of his life to Food Network and cooking YouTube. He can recite the merits of Le Creuset like he works for the company.</p><p>“Do you want it?”</p><p>“It’s too much,” Bitty quickly says. “Regular pots and pans and a cast iron skillet will work just fine,” he assures Jack, even as he looks longingly at a cerise Dutch oven.</p><p>“But this stuff is so colorful. And it matches our uniforms. You need stuff that will look good in your videos, right? Which size do you think we should get?”</p><p>Bitty rolls his eyes fondly. “I’ll let you buy this,” he says, “if you promise to learn to use it to cook for yourself when I’m not there. Because it’ll just be sad sitting there alone and unused. Okay?”</p><p>“You’ll teach me, right?”</p><p>Lord, this boy. How, exactly, is Bitty supposed to do this without falling in love with him?</p><hr/><p>At dinner after Jack’s graduation, Georgia Martin doesn’t look at all surprised when Jack introduces Bitty to her as his soulmate.</p><hr/><p>After dinner with Jack’s parents and Georgia, they unload Bitty’s suitcase, duffel, and box of miscellaneous items from the back of Jack’s new SUV and carry them up to the condo. Bitty’s going to continue living in the Haus during the school year until he graduates, so he only brought a few necessities—the clothes he’ll need for the summer, his vlogging equipment, some baking supplies he doesn’t want to be without. Even with all the new stuff, he still has his old favorites, his comfort objects. Everybody has their little superstitions. Jack needs to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich before very game; Bitty needs his special rolling pin and the vintage metal pie tin MooMaw gave him from her own stash.</p><p>When Jack’s parents leave to return to their hotel after they’ve shared a celebratory housewarming bottle of champagne—“We don’t want to be in the way during your first night in your new home,” Bob says with a wink—they’re truly alone.</p><p>In some ways it feels completely natural, because Jack is Bitty’s best friend and they’ve lived together in the Haus for a year. But this isn’t temporary, like Samwell. They’re supposed to be soulmates, even if their arrangement is more akin to roommates.</p><p>“I guess I’ll put these things away,” Bitty says, hoisting the duffel over his shoulder and extending the handle on his suitcase. His bedroom is just down the hall, furnished with the bed, dresser, and desk that were delivered yesterday.</p><p>Jack picks up Bitty’s remaining box and follows him down the hall. “Are you tired?” he asks, setting the box on the floor next to the desk while Bitty puts his suitcase in the closet. He’ll put his clothes away in his new dresser tomorrow. “We can watch a movie or something. If you want.”</p><p>It has been a day. They were up early for breakfast with the Zimmermanns and Shitty’s family (plus Lardo and her parents, but minus Shitty’s father) and haven’t stopped all day. Bitty was feeling sleepy <em>before</em> their big dinner and the two glasses of champagne he just drank, and now he kind of just wants to go to bed. But when he turns away from the closet Jack’s sitting on the bed looking completely shell shocked. Bitty notices his blown pupils and pale pallor, the beads of sweat dotting his hairline, and recognizes it’s a precursor to an anxiety attack.</p><p><em>Oh</em>.</p><p>“You’ve been in the same place for three years,” Bitty says, somehow understanding exactly where Jack’s head is right now. He’s been so wrapped up in how quickly this has happened for him he hasn’t stopped to think about what this day must mean for Jack. “This must be pretty weird for you,” he says, sitting down next to Jack and wrapping him up in a hug.</p><p>“It would be weirder without you here,” Jack says into Bitty’s hair. “I’ve never lived alone. I just … I’ve spent so much of the past six years trying to get here, I never thought about what I would do when I actually got here.”</p><p>“Well, we'll just take it one day at a time,” Bitty soothes. “We'll go to bed tonight and in the morning we'll go for a run because that's what we always do, and it'll give us a chance to get to know the neighborhood. And we'll take your parents to the airport and finish unpacking our stuff and you'll probably want to check out the gym at some point, right? And next week you have meetings set up with George and the PR team, and she'll help you ease into all of that. I'll be here when you get home, and your parents are just a phone call away. Nobody's gonna let you fail, honey.”</p><p>Jack doesn't say anything, but Bitty can feel some of the tension leave his body.</p><p>"What would make it feel less weird right now? I can bake a pie to go with our movie. Probably won’t be the same without the boys talking through it but at least we’ll be able to hear what’s going on.”</p><p>“Yeah. I’d like that. But can we just sit here like this for a while?”</p><p>Bitty nods and lets Jack hold onto him for as long as he needs. When Jack is finally ready, his breathing steadier and color returned to his face, he nudges Bitty with his thigh. “I think I’m ready for that pie now.”</p><p>“I can do that,” Bitty says, thinking that baking something together will be a good way to spend their first night in their new home. “Let me just change out of these clothes and grab my things. You should change too. It would be a shame to get flour all over that suit.”</p><p>“Hey, Bits?” Jack says, pausing to look back at Bitty on his way out the door. “Thank you for sitting with me. I’m usually alone. That helped.”</p><hr/><p>The humidity hits Bitty like a wall as soon as they set foot outside of the airport in Atlanta. A quick glance back at Jack, who insisted on carrying both of their suitcases because he’s just that extra (Bitty’s pretty sure he’s also trying to impress his father), tells him Jack wasn’t prepared for this.</p><p>“You regretting showing off?” Bitty asks.</p><p>“Never,” Jack says, hefting a suitcase into the trunk of Mama’s car. “I’m a professional athlete. A little heat can’t break me.”</p><p>“Okay, big man,” Bitty says, patting him on the shoulder. Chirping Jack is just a distraction anyway. It keeps him from thinking too much about what they’re doing. “Daddy, did you bring a bottle of water? This one is gonna need it.”</p><p>Coach takes the long way home, driving through downtown Madison and stopping for lunch at a diner where some of his football players and their fathers and Mama’s book club friends <em>just happen</em> to also be having lunch. Jack takes it in stride, signing autographs and posing for selfies with people who have never seen a hockey game in their lives but are nevertheless excited about meeting an actual (almost) NHL star. Bitty rolls his eyes internally and texts the group chat.</p><p>Back at home, Mama looks particularly excited as she gives Jack the grand tour. At first Bitty thinks it must be because of the new towels and shower curtain hanging in the guest bathroom; of course she’d use Jack’s visit as an opportunity to redecorate. But when she opens the door to Bitty’s room with a flourish, Bitty realizes he’s very wrong.</p><p>“We redecorated it just for you!” she squeals. “I started working on it the day you told us about you and Jack.”</p><p>It’s not Bitty’s childhood room, with its twin bed and Beyoncé posters and old skating awards on the wall. The walls are now a pale yellow, a hint of new-paint smell still clinging to them. Bitty’s old comfortable bed has been replaced with a new-looking queen-size bed that’s been made with fresh linens and topped with his great-grandma’s quilt, the one that’s only brought out for special guests.</p><p>“Dicky, I put your things in a box in the closet,” Mama reassures him, apparently assuming the look of horror on his face is due to a fear that she’s thrown his stuff away. “If you have a chance to go through it all this week, we can ship the stuff you want to keep to your new place.”</p><p>“Thanks, Mama,” Bitty says weakly.</p><p>“I’ll just leave you two to get settled,” Mama says.</p><p>“Um,” Bitty says, casting a helpless look at Jack once the door has closed behind her. “I didn’t realize… I mean <em>of course</em> she thinks we sleep in the same bed, we’re soulmates.” It’s getting easier to say that word now that they’ve said it to friends and family, the doorman in their building, the barista at the neighborhood coffee shop they’ve been stopping at after their morning run. “I’m sorry, Jack, I can sleep on the floor—”</p><p>“Bitty,” Jack interrupts. He gently takes Bitty’s duffel and sets it on the floor next to his own. “It’s okay. As far as they know, we are, right? So we should act like it.”</p><p>“I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable here,” Bitty says quietly, in case his mother is eavesdropping. If <em>he</em> feels uncomfortable, he can’t imagine what Jack must be feeling right now.</p><p>“Your family has been more than welcoming,” Jack reassures him. “I understand if you’re more comfortable sleeping apart, and if that’s what you’d prefer we can figure something out. But if you want to share, I don’t mind. That’s what soulmates do, right?”</p><p>Bitty nods. He guesses they’ll have to get used to it because this certainly won’t be the first time they’re expected to share a bed. Maybe, like saying the word “soulmate,” it will eventually feel normal.</p><hr/><p>“You know, Dicky,” Mama says as they set the table for dinner, “I don’t think I have to tell you how we worried about you. For a long time it really looked like you were gonna be one of the markless.”</p><p>She says it so blithely, an undercurrent of pity just barely detectable, and Bitty realizes she’ll never understand.</p><p>“But,” she continues, “some things are worth waiting for. You and Jack complement each other in all the best ways. Your daddy always said he knew we were soulmates even before our marks settled because I talk enough for both of us, and it seems that’s true for you boys as well.”</p><p>Something twists deep inside Bitty because as much as he wants it to be true, it’s not. The easier it is to fool his parents, the more exposed he feels. He glances out the kitchen window, where Jack and Coach are standing over the grill. Jack looks up and catches his eye and grins. He already looks at home here, grill fork in one hand and glass of sweet tea in the other.</p><p>“And I still can’t believe your soulmate is <em>Jack</em>. <em>Zimmermann</em>. What are the odds? You know, I had such a crush on his daddy …” Mama’s talking mostly to herself now, pulling potato and pasta salads out of the fridge and setting them in the center of the table. “Must have been some sort of premonition …”</p><p>Bitty’s insides keep twisting themselves into knots until he thinks he might throw up, so he quietly watches everybody else eat at dinner, halfheartedly taking a bite of potato salad or a sip of tea every once in a while to make it look like he’s eating. He doesn’t fool Jack, who calls him on it as soon as they’re alone cleaning up while Mama and Coach are on their after-dinner walk.</p><p>“Everything okay?”</p><p>“Everything’s perfect,” Bitty says, the knot pulling tighter.</p><p>“You didn’t eat. You spent a whole week telling me how much you miss your mom’s cooking and you barely ate.”</p><p>At first Bitty’s surprised Jack was paying that much attention but then he remembers “eat more protein.” Of course Jack noticed.</p><p>“I guess maybe I’m still feeling a little unsettled from the plane,” Bitty says, turning back toward the sink.</p><p>“Bits.” Jack catches Bitty’s wrist before he can plunge it back into the soapy water. “Is this too much? Is being with your family too much?”</p><p>The thing is, this will never be the same for Jack. Jack never wanted, or needed, a soulmate. Not the way Bitty does. Whatever this weekend means to Jack, the stakes are much higher for Bitty. This arrangement may be a convenience for Jack, but Bitty <em>needs</em> his parents and extended family to believe this is real, that little Dicky Bittle is just as normal as the rest of them.</p><p>“It’s just a lot more than I thought it would be,” Bitty says truthfully.</p><p>Jack nods and accepts the mixing bowl Bitty has just rinsed. He dries it and stacks it on the counter.</p><p>“If being here with them is making you uncomfortable,” he says, voice lowered, even though Bitty’s parents aren’t here, “maybe we can get out of here. Just for a little while. It might be good to have some time alone.”</p><p>For the first time this evening, Bitty feels understood. Jack’s right. The knots might not feel so constricting if he can just get out of this house for a little while. And he knows exactly where he wants to go.</p><hr/><p>“A field?” Jack asks, as Bitty parks Coach’s truck in the vacant lot behind the football field. Back in high school, kids used to come here after football games to drink and make out. Bitty never did. He wasn’t popular enough to get invited to the afterparties, and he certainly didn’t have anybody to make out with.</p><p>“We aren’t trespassing, are we?”</p><p>Bitty waves off Jack’s concern as he jumps down out of the cab and pulls some blankets out from behind the seat. He climbs into the bed and gestures for Jack to do the same. “The Johnsons own this place, and old Mr. Johnson passed a good twenty years ago. His kids live in Florida, so nobody’s gonna come checking up on us. But to answer your question, no. This land’s been vacant as long as I can remember. Everybody knows what people get up to here but nobody really cares. It’s tradition.”</p><p>“Tradition?”</p><p>Bitty smirks. “Why, Mr. Zimmermann, I never thought I’d have to explain the birds and the bees to you, of all people. When a young couple is feeling very … amorous—” Jack snorts at Bitty’s euphemism—“but doesn’t have any privacy at home, they have to make other arrangements.”</p><p>Jack huffs out a laugh. “So this is a make out hill?”</p><p>“Do you not have these in Canada?”</p><p>“Probably.” Jack shrugs. “I didn’t really date in high school. I just hooked up with people at parties and gave Kent blow jobs in hotel bathrooms.”</p><p>Bitty wills those knots in his stomach not to tighten up again. Jack has a past. It has nothing to do with his present which is here, with Bitty, in an empty field in rural Georgia.</p><p>Bitty wonders if Jack is thinking the same thing.</p><p>“So you brought me here because you never got to do this,” Jack says quietly, and Bitty thinks that maybe Jack really is his soulmate, if he can reach down deep into Bitty’s most hidden places and know exactly what he’s thinking.</p><p>Or maybe that’s just because they’re such good friends.</p><p>“I did,” Bitty admits. “But we don’t have to.” He expects Jack to laugh, but all Jack does is casually rest his arm on Bitty’s shoulders and pull him close.</p><p>“I want to,” Jack says. “I want to give you this.”</p><p>They don’t actually make out, because that would be weird, but they sit in the back of the truck for hours, Bitty tucked under Jack’s arm. They work their way through most of a six-pack and the cookies Bitty’s brought as the sun sets and darkness falls, the only light coming from the moon and stars.</p><p>“I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I like it here,” Jack says. “I like your family.”</p><p>“You might wanna reserve your judgement until after you’ve met ‘em all tomorrow,” Bitty cautions. “The Bittles and Phelpses can be a rowdy lot.”</p><p>“Pretty sure I can handle it, Bittle,” Jack says. “Did I ever tell you about the time I chased the football team out of the Haus with a fire extinguisher?”</p><p>“Only once or twice,” Bitty says, snuggling a little deeper into Jack’s side. “You can tell me again. I promise to act impressed at all the right parts.”</p><p>Jack chuckles and tightens his grip around Bitty’s shoulders as he begins to tell the story. Bitty’s pretty sure the football team has doubled in size since the last time Jack told it. He kind of loves that it was the football team that caught Jack’s wrath.</p><p>“So brave,” Bitty whispers when he’s finished. “Promise me you won’t take that attitude to the NHL ice, though. I don’t know how well you’ll fare without your fire extinguisher as backup.”</p><p>Jack chuckles. “Duly noted.” He exhales deeply and removes his arm around Bitty’s shoulders, stretching exaggeratedly before easing them down until they’re lying on their backs, gazing at the stars above.</p><p>“Pretty out here,” Jack says. “I don’t think I’ve seen stars like this since my dad and I went camping a few years ago. Kind of crazy to think they’re the same wherever you go.”</p><p>“I used to look at the stars.” Bitty points to three particularly bright stars that form a triangle—or, as he used to say when he was little, a slice of pie. “Those right there, I used to look at them and wonder if my soulmate could see them too,” he confesses</p><p>“Maybe I did,” Jack says. “Maybe we were looking at them at the same time. I guess only the stars know for sure.”</p><p>Bitty sighs and rests his head on Jack’s chest, allowing himself to get caught up in the fantasy. “Only the stars know the truth about us,” he whispers. Jack hums thoughtfully, the vibration in his chest moving like a current through Bitty’s body. The idea that they could have been staring at these same stars before they even became friends, and now they’re here together, feels miraculous.</p><p>Maybe Bitty and Jack aren’t soulmates. Maybe there’s no word for what they are. Out of all the people wandering this vast universe alone, they managed to find each other. That’s the real truth. That’s the real miracle.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>At first I thought this chapter was too melancholy, but then I remembered the dick faucets (an actual thing that was in a home my sister's in-law's bought, I saw them with my own eyes) and decided maybe there's enough humor to offset the angst.</p><p>I know that Bitty is technically 20 at this point in the timeline, but I figure the Zimmermanns are the type of parents who have been letting Jack have a glass of wine with dinner since he was a young teenager (totally not realizing until much later that their lax attitude about alcohol might have contributed to Jack's issues) and also just don't remember that Bitty isn't of legal drinking age in the States. And Coach seems like the type of guy who knows Bitty lives in a frat house and just looks the other way.</p><p>Personal headcanon time: I like to think that once he's an established food personality, Bitty does some sort of collaboration with Le Creuset, becoming one of those people who <i>is</i> paid to talk about the merits of enameled cast iron.</p><p>I used <a href="https://parvuls.tumblr.com">Parvuls'</a> excellent <a href="https://parvuls.tumblr.com/post/643848457565634560/jacks-providence-apartment-the-breakdown-first">diagram</a> as a reference for Jack's apartment layout.</p><p>I have been posting updates weekly, but next week's update may be a little late as I'm also participating in the Finish Your WIP event and am editing that fic as well.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jack could do worse than having Bittle as a soulmate.</p><p>When he proposed the idea he wasn’t sure how it would work, just that they’d figure it out. It never occurred to him that it would work so well.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>There’s no big announcement. George knows about him and Bitty and as he gets to know his teammates, word spreads. There’s an event for the players and their families who have stayed in town over the summer, which Bitty attends as Jack’s guest. Everybody is impressed that Jack’s soulmate also plays hockey, and is even more impressed once they’ve sampled the desserts Bitty spent all of Friday night preparing. Bitty’s the whole package and yeah, Jack does feel a little stab of pride as he introduces him to his teammates and their families.</p><p>Marty and Thirdy, the team’s elder statesmen and alternate captains, make a point of taking Jack and Bitty out to dinner to welcome them to the Falcs family.</p><p>“How did the two of you meet?” Thirdy’s wife Carrie asks over appetizers. “You played together in college, right? Did you know you were soulmates from the beginning?”</p><p>“Lord, no!” Bitty says emphatically. “We couldn’t stand each other for the longest time. It was <em>months</em> before he tried my pie. ‘Bittle, eat more protein. Bittle, learn to take a check. Bittle, stop bringing dessert to team meetings,’” he says in a Southern-tinged approximation of Jack’s accent.</p><p>“For shame, Jack!” Marty’s wife Gabby scolds.</p><p>“We had some differences,” Jack allows.</p><p>“But we worked through them,” Bitty adds. “Literally. Jack saw that all I really needed was a little more confidence on the ice so he took it upon himself to start checking practice with me.”</p><p>“Hold up, checking practice?” Marty asks.</p><p>So Bitty begins the story from the beginning, to the delight of Marty and Thirdy, who seem thrilled to be presented with further evidence of Jack’s intensity. “And then—” Bitty looks up at Jack, eyes going soft—“It was sort of unexpected, really. One day it just all came together for us,” he says, like he’s told this story a million times.</p><p>“We were in the locker room after practice,” Jack says, picking up the thread of a story they’re creating on the spot. “Bittle’s mark is on his—”</p><p>“Jack Laurent Zimmerman, that is as much as they need to know!” Bitty shrieks, turning red. Jack thinks it’s an excellent touch.</p><p>“Euh, yeah,” Jack says. “But that’s how we found out.”</p><p>“<em>Total</em> surprise,” Bitty says. “Of course, I’d wondered, but I’d just about given up hope of ever finding my soulmate.”</p><p>“It was a nice surprise,” Jack says, forgetting for a moment that this is just a story. It feels real, like it might have happened exactly this way. He puts an arm around Bitty’s shoulders, hoping it’s not too over the top.</p><p>“That’s one of the sweetest stories I’ve ever heard,” Gabby says. “Much sweeter than, ‘Babe, I have a weird rash on my soulmark.’ That’s not something you want to hear from somebody you’ve been seeing for two weeks.”</p><p>“It was an honest mistake,” Marty protests, to groans of disgust from the rest of the table. “You all know how gear gets after a game.”</p><p>“Come on, man,” Thirdy groans. “We’re eating.”</p><p>“Just make sure you save room for dessert,” Bitty says. “I brought mini pies for you to take home to your families!”</p><p>“Wish I had a soulmate who bakes,” Carrie says, nudging Thirdy in the ribs.</p><p>“You got a soulmate who skates,” Thirdy says.</p><p>“Yeah,” Carrie mock pouts, “but Jack’s does both.”</p><p>Everybody laughs and Bitty leans into Jack a little. It all feels right. Jack’s new NHL life isn’t Samwell-good, not yet, but it’s close. Having Bitty by his side helps.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Where were you gonna tell ‘em my mark was?” Bitty asks in the car on the way home.</p><p>“Your mark?” Jack asks.</p><p>“You were tellin’ everybody about my mark on my...”</p><p>“Oh.” Jack chuckles. “Your thigh. Where’d you think I was going to say?”</p><p>“No comment, Mr. Zimmerman,” Bitty says, flushing adorably.</p><p>“Did you think I was gonna say your ass? Jack asks, unable to resist chirping Bitty. It would have been a good idea. Bitty has a nice ass. It’s not like he hasn’t noticed.</p><p>“The thought did cross my mind,” Bitty hums. “It’s a good story. We’ll have to remember to tell it that way every time.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>There will be plenty of opportunities to perfect their story in Madison.</p><p>Jack can tell Bitty has complicated feelings about his hometown and, by extension, his family. As July approaches, Bitty begins to talk more frequently of Madison, of the big family cookout they’re expected to attend and the town’s annual fireworks display. When he was younger, he tells Jack, he and his cousins used to have water balloon fights and create a homemade slip and slide out of trash bags and a garden hose. To somebody like Jack, who had a relatively solitary childhood outside of school and his hockey teams, it sounds idyllic—and the way Bitty describes it, it is.</p><p>But as their trip approaches Bitty’s enthusiasm gives way to nerves, and by the time they’re boarding the plane the look on Bitty’s face brings to mind the first time Jack saw him go down on the ice, that split second of terror before he resigned himself to what was happening.</p><p>Bitty’s pale and quiet as their plane takes off, and he waves off the flight attendant’s offer of something to drink. Jack orders water and two ginger ales, just in case Bitty changes his mind.</p><p>“You looking out for me?” Bitty asks, speaking for the first time since they boarded.</p><p>“In case you want something later,” Jack explains.</p><p>“Thank you,” Bitty says, but his eyes are fixed on some point outside the window.</p><p>“It’s okay to have mixed feelings about the place you grew up,” Jack finally says. “Sometimes I have a hard time going home, too.”</p><p>“You?” Bitty asks skeptically.</p><p>“It’s not my family so much as the rest of the city,” Jack admits. “My parents’ friends, the hockey community, everybody who remembers what happened.”</p><p>“But you’re doing great now,” Bitty says.</p><p>“Better,” Jack concedes. “But I have anxiety and depression and that doesn’t change, no matter how well I manage it. Back then nobody knew how hard it was for me to just try to be like everybody else. Better than everybody else, because of who my dad is. And I was just supposed to ignore it when people were cruel.”</p><p>“People were cruel to you?” Bitty asks incredulously, and Jack realizes he hasn’t told Bitty about all of this yet. Shitty knows, but it’s not the sort of thing Shitty would share without Jack’s permission.</p><p>“You know. Have you seen my baby pictures?” Bitty shakes his head and Jack reminds himself to pull out the photo albums when they visit his parents. He’s never dated anybody he’d be willing to show the photographic evidence of his most awkward years, but Bitty is different. “I was kind of funny looking, and you know what my parents look like. And then I got a little older and it was constant judgement. Why don’t my parents make me look people in the eye when they talk to me? Why don’t they put me on a diet? Why don’t they make me cut my hair? Do I really deserve to start when I’m one of the youngest kids on the team? When I played well it was because I was Bad Bob’s son, not because I worked harder than everyone else. But when I had a bad game, I was a disappointment, not worthy of the Zimmermann name. Which is … my name. Once when I was seven or eight I missed a shot and someone’s dad yelled that at me.”</p><p>“Oh, honey. They said that to a <em>seven</em>-year-old?”</p><p>“It’s …” It’s not okay. For every good memory Jack has of growing up, he can call one up that he’d rather forget. They’re all intertwined. “I had some really shitty things happen to me but I also had it pretty easy, all things considered. I love hockey, and I got to grow up playing and traveling with my dad and having opportunities most kids didn’t. And all of that, the good and the bad, is there when I go back to visit my parents.”</p><p>“Yeah.” Bitty’s hand finds Jack’s on the other side of their shared arm rest and grasps it. “You get it. It’s like, I get to go back and see all these people I love, but they’re also people who have some really backward ideas. I totally bought into them too, until I realized I’d never be like the rest of them.”</p><p>“Hey.” Jack looks at their hands, the way their fingers are twined together; somehow, they fit together perfectly. “There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s okay to know they were wrong about soulmates and still want that for yourself.And it’s okay to love your family, and to also want them to be better. My parents didn’t know a lot about mental health before my overdose, and now they do. Yours have a lot of old fashioned ideas about soulmates, but that doesn’t mean they can’t change. We don’t ever have to tell them the truth about us if you don’t want to. But if you do, someday, I’d be fine with that.”</p><p>“Lord, I think it’s too much to think about right now,” Bitty says, resting his head against the back of his seat and closing his eyes. “Thank you.”</p><p>“For what?”</p><p>“For being you. For doing this with me. It’s nice to not be alone.”</p><p>Something about the way Bitty phrases that doesn’t sit well with Jack, like he’s doing Bitty a favor when really he’s just as afraid of being alone. But the thought passes like the clouds outside the plane’s window.</p><p>“Well, we have each other now,” Jack finally says. Bitty doesn’t respond, and Jack wonders if he’s fallen asleep. “You don’t have to be alone anymore.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“How’s this?” Jack asks, rolling over onto his left side and spooning Bitty.</p><p>“Hmph. I don’t sleep well on this side.” Bitty props himself up, smacking Jack in the lip with his elbow. “Can we try it the other way?”</p><p>“You want to spoon me?”</p><p>“No, like, can we switch sides?”</p><p>“I asked you which side you wanted before we got in bed.”</p><p>“I’ve never shared a bed with anybody before!” Bitty whisper-yells. “And I didn’t know you were gonna wanna spoon.”</p><p>“Okay, fine,” Jack says, moving to get out of bed. But before his feet touch the floor, Bitty’s diving over him.</p><p>“Oof,” Jack grunts as Bitty’s elbow makes contact with his pec.</p><p>“Sorry!”</p><p>“That’s the second time tonight. Didn’t know you were so violent.”</p><p>“Scooch, you.” Bitty begins to wiggle and fiddle with the sheet and Jack quickly slides over to avoid a third hit.</p><p>“Euh … there’s something underneath me,” Jack says as he registers something soft and kind of lumpy under his hip. He shifts a bit to extract it and there’s just enough moonlight for him to recognize it as Bitty’s stuffed rabbit.</p><p>“Bun!” Bitty says, reaching back and gently taking it from Jack, like it’s something precious. He props it up at the head of the bed, in the space between their pillows. “Okay, you can spoon me now,” Bitty announces.</p><p>“You’re pretty demanding for somebody who wasn’t even sure about sharing a bed when we got here.”</p><p>“I changed my mind,” Bitty says primly. “You keep me warm.”</p><p>“So I’m just a warm body to you?”</p><p>“If I just wanted a warm body I’d’ve invited Shitty to come home with me.”</p><p>“Shitty <em>is</em> pretty warm. Good at snuggling, too. You might’ve been better off with him.”</p><p>“Shitty smells like weed and Herbal Essences. Lardo can have that.”</p><p>Jack snorts. “Are you saying the only reason I’m preferable to Shitty is because I smell better?”</p><p>“‘Course not. You’re preferable to Shitty because you’re my <em>soulmate</em>.” And Jack can tell Bitty is finally comfortable with this sleeping arrangement because his entire body relaxes against Jack’s. “Anyway, don’t fool yourself. I’ve smelled you after practice.”</p><p>Jack smiles against the back of Bitty’s neck. “Good night, Bits.”</p><p>In the dark Bitty finds Jack hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a light kiss against his knuckles. “‘Night, Sweetpea.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Jack has called a lot of different places “home” over the years, but only a few have really felt like <em>home</em>, a safe place where he can be himself. There was the house in Montreal that they lived in when he started school, after his dad retired and his mom took a break from filming movies to focus on raising Jack. There’s the Haus, obviously. And now there’s the condo. Before he and Bitty moved in, Jack assumed it would just be another place to live, temporary at best. But somehow he and Bitty managed to take an empty, lifeless condo and turn it into a home. Jack doesn’t even realize that it’s happened until the evening Bitty packs up some of his things and Jack drives him back to the Haus at the beginning of his fall semester.</p><p>Living with Bitty was awesome. They’d quickly fallen into a summer routine of getting up early to run together before going their separate ways — Bitty to work on his vlog stuff, Jack to the gym or to meetings—before coming back together again in the evening. They spent many nights exploring Providence, sampling its best restaurants and getting a feel for its arts scene and night life. But there were also quiet evenings at home, cooking together and watching movies or playing games.</p><p>If living in the Haus together convinced Jack of Bitty’s compatability as a roommate, making a home together has only confirmed it. There have been growing pains, of course. There was the week-long standoff over what temperature the thermostat should be set at. They both have chores they’d prefer the other take care of. But they’re getting there.</p><p>Jack looks around the place now and sees Bitty’s red stand mixer on the counter, the blanket he brought back from Georgia on the back of the couch, little pots of herbs lined up in the living room windowsill—even when Bitty’s not here, it’s hard not to feel his presence.</p><p>“How are things?” Shitty asks not long after Bitty returns to school. They try to talk once a week, on Tuesday mornings after Jack’s run and before Shitty’s first class.</p><p>“Quiet,” Jack admits. Bitty’s not loud on his own, per se. It usually takes the presence of Shitty or Holster or the Frogs to get him wound up. But he fills Jack’s senses with his music and his baking and the way he feels against Jack when they’re splayed all over each other watching <em>SportsCenter</em> at night. The house feels colder without Bitty here. (Bitty may have been right about the thermostat.)</p><p>“Long distance relationships,” Shitty says knowingly. “If your bed feels too big, I can be over within the hour.”</p><p>Jack’s bed does feel too big. The time they spent in Georgia was a turning point in a lot of ways, and the whole bed sharing thing, which ended up being not-so-awkward after that first night, kind of stuck. For some reason Jack sleeps better when Bitty is next to him.</p><p>He chooses not to think about the <em>other </em>implication of Shitty’s statement, that there’s more happening in their bed than just sleeping. He and Bitty haven’t really talked about that, or acknowledged that either of them might have needs going unfulfilled. He assumes Bitty does what he does, and takes care of them in the shower.</p><p>“Ha ha. Thanks, Shits.” Sometimes Jack forgets that Shitty and Lardo are in a similar situation. Though, to hear Bitty tell it, Shitty’s at the Haus a few nights a week anyway. Jack would like to visit more often, but he’s only been able to make it out twice.</p><p>It’s unsettling, at first, to return to a quiet, empty house after practice or a game. Bitty’s left mini pies in the freezer for Jack to defrost as a treat, but it’s not quite the same when the kitchen isn’t filled with the scent of spices and Bitty’s music, when Bitty’s not standing by with a hopeful smile and asking Jack what he thinks. It’s not like he didn’t think he would miss Bitty, when Bitty went back to Samwell. It’s more that he thought he’d be so busy with hockey, so tired from the long, physically demanding days, that he wouldn’t have <em>time</em> to miss Bitty. </p><p>Jack knows Bitty and Shitty wouldn’t want him to sit alone at home so he makes an effort to accept invitations for home-cooked meals from his older teammates and video game nights with the younger guys.</p><p>But Jack’s best nights are the ones when he arrives home from practice to find Bitty in the kitchen, singing along to one of his divas playlists and baking something he’ll leave behind when he goes back to school. There’s always a moment when Bitty’s attention shifts from the work in front of him to Jack in the doorway and his face just lights up, like Jack is the brightest thing in the room.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It’s not true, of course. Bitty’s the brightest thing in any room.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The house Jack’s parents live in now is filled with memories—some of them pleasant, but most associated with a time he wants to forget—and has never felt like home. But it’s here he finds himself during a trip out to play the Habs. It’s his first time playing in Montreal and already hockey media is making a thing of it, the Prodigal Son returning to play the team that retired his father’s jersey. Jack wishes he could think of it as just another game, but there’s more riding on this. He supposes it’s because he wants to prove to everybody who ever doubted him that he made the right decision.</p><p>Jack’s not sure if the city will be more disappointed if his team wins or loses.</p><p>“Honey.” Maman greets Jack in the foyer with a hug when his car drops him off. He’s arranged to spend a few hours here before the game; his parents will drop him off at the arena before warmups and the team meeting. “It’s so good to see you.” Maman and Papa always says that, even though they were in Providence just a few weeks ago to watch the Falconers play the Bruins.</p><p>“Hi,” Jack says into her shoulder. “Bitty sent cookies.” He hands her the bag Bitty lovingly prepared (“Don’t just shove that into your luggage,” he’d warned Jack. “Carry ‘em on the plane so they don’t get crushed.”) and follows her into the kitchen. On the way he catches a glimpse of a new photograph on the wall and pauses to look at it.</p><p>“Didn’t that turn out lovely?” Maman asks.</p><p>It’s a photo of himself and Bitty, casually posed in front of a tree at the Botanical Center in Providence. Their arms are wrapped around each other in a intimate pose that suggests they’re more than just bros.</p><p>“It’s nice,” Jack agrees.</p><p>“I might be a little biased, but you’re a very handsome couple.”</p><p>“Euh,” Jack says, his heartbeat ticking up a notch at the word ‘couple.’ “You know Bitty and I— You know, right? It’s not like that.”</p><p>“What is it like?” Papa asks, looking up from the three cups of tea he’s preparing. “Oh, did Bittle send cookies?”</p><p>“You know I’m markless. Bitty is too.”</p><p>“We suspected it might be something like that, but we didn’t want to assume,” Maman says gently. “We think it’s wonderful you found each other.”</p><p>“Bitty’s parents don’t know. You can’t tell them. They think his mark came in late.”</p><p>“Okay,” Papa says slowly.</p><p>“You’re the only ones who know that we’re not real.”</p><p>“Honey,” Maman says, sounding sad, “of course what you and Bitty have is real. You know we’ve always taught you that there’s more to a relationship than a mark.”</p><p>“But we’re not—”</p><p>“Not what?” Papa asks.</p><p>Jack’s about to say he and Bitty aren’t in love, but the words stick in his throat. “It’s not the same as it is for other people,” he finally says.</p><p>To his surprise, Papa laughs. “And what do you think it’s like for other people?”</p><p>Jack can’t answer that because he doesn’t <em>know</em>. He doesn’t know what it’s supposed to be like because he has always, for as long as he can remember, been absolutely certain that he can never have what other people get to have. Not when it comes to love. “It just seems like it would be easier if it were real,” is what he settles on.</p><p>“I hope you don’t think relationships are easier for soulmates. All relationships take work,” Papa says, sounding like Shitty and also completely missing the point Jack has been talking around.</p><p>“Are you and Bitty having problems?” Maman asks, also missing the point.</p><p>“No!” Jack says, frustrated now. “Bitty and I are great. That’s not what I meant.”</p><p>“It’ll get easier when he graduates,” Papa says with certainty. “It probably doesn’t help that you can’t be together right now. All relationships have their challenges. The people who tell you they met their soulmate at thirteen and have been happy ever since are liars. Nobody is happy at thirteen.”</p><p>Jack looks to Maman, hopeful she’ll have more helpful words.</p><p>“Your father’s right. The first year together is hard for everybody, and you and Bitty both have so much going on.”</p><p>“I used to send your mother flowers!” Papa says, apropos of nothing. “When we had to be apart for long periods of time. Just to let her know I was thinking of her.”</p><p>“Honey, they just text each other now.”</p><p>Jack nods in agreement. “And we talk every night before bed. Or try to, anyway.” But as he says it, he’s thinking. Being Bitty’s soulmate is nice. It’s nice to have a plus-one for any event he might need to attend, and to have somebody to come home to when they’re both in town. It’s nice to have an endless supply of baked goods in the kitchen. It’s nice to just <em>be</em> with Bitty.But maybe Jack isn’t doing enough to hold up his end of the bargain. He knows that for Bitty, having a soulmate is equal parts stability and romance, and so far Jack hasn’t been very good at the romance part. Maybe he can be better.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Jack gets a text from Bitty right before they take the ice: “Good luck tonight! Remember, whatever happens, you’re my #1.”</p><p>It shouldn’t be this easy. Jack has always carried the expectations of so many, himself included. He’s never felt like his good enough is <em>good enough</em>. And now Bitty’s here telling him it is. Not just tonight but every night.</p><p>“That your boy?” Tater asks.</p><p>“What?” Jack doesn’t look up as he quickly types a reply to Bitty: “Thanks. I’ll call later tonight.”</p><p>“Your boy. Shows on face. He promise you something special if we win?” Tater asks with a wink.</p><p>“Euh, no.” Jack tucks his phone into his bag. “He was just reminding me of something.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>They lose.</p><p>When Jack finally looks at his phone, there’s one sweet, perfect text from Bitty: “You played your heart out tonight! I wish I could give you a big hug. Call me if you still want to talk. Doesn’t matter how late, I’ll be up.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Jack’s only been in the NHL for a few months but the hotel rooms are already starting to look the same, right down to the carpet. This one has some black and white landscape shots of downtown Montreal on the walls, the only evidence that he’s not in Dallas or San Jose or Vancouver.</p><p>It’s late when he finally gets in bed, much later than usual because one of the local stations wanted to do a post-game wrap-up with Jack and his dad, but he calls Bitty anyway.</p><p>Bitty answers before Jack even hears it ring. “Hey, sweetheart. You played a good game.”</p><p>“They put up a strong defense,” Jack says, repeating what he told every reporter who spoke to him tonight. “We’ll regroup and be more prepared next time.”</p><p>“I know you will, but you don’t need to talk to me like I’m a reporter,” Bitty says, and his tone is so gentle that Jack feels himself relaxing by degrees, sinking back into the pillows he’s propped up against the headboard. “How are you really feeling?”</p><p>In the aftermath of tonight’s game, Bitty is the first person other than his parents to ask this question with genuine interest and concern. Or, maybe he’s the first person who expects an honest answer. Over the years Jack has learned to give the most basic, to-the-point answers to avoid saying something that will get twisted and misinterpreted on Twitter or by the talking heads on all the post-game breakdown shows.</p><p>“I actually feel okay,” Jack says, allowing himself to recognize the feeling he’s been carrying around all night as relief instead of disappointment. “It’s a relief to have it out of the way.”</p><p>“I bet it is,” Bitty affirms, his voice sweet and sleepy.</p><p>“Tell me about your day.”</p><p>“Oh, lord. Where d’you want me to start? Nursey and Dex were goofing off at practice and Nursey is out for at least a few weeks with a sprained arm. That boy is something else. Fortunately, one of the new tadpoles—that’s what we’re calling the freshmen—seems to be working out in his spot, though he doesn’t quite have the same chemistry with Dex. I will never understand how those two can be so compatible on the ice and just absolute disasters off.”</p><p>“Sometimes you have to grow into it,” Jack says, thinking of himself and Bitty.</p><p>“I <em>guess</em>,” Bitty huffs.</p><p>“What else? How was your French test?”</p><p>“I <em>think</em> I passed?”</p><p>“Bring your flashcards when you come home next week. We can practice.”</p><p>Jack can practically <em>hear</em> Bitty’s eyeroll as he complains about “sullying our weekend together with homework.”</p><p>“Or I can just speak French all weekend,” Jack threatens.</p><p>“Isn’t it enough that my soulmate is fluent?” Bitty asks in despair. “I know all the words I’m gonna need. <em>Latte</em>. <em>Pain</em>. <em>Pâtisserie</em>.”</p><p>“Sure, if all you plan to do in France is go to bakeries,” Jack chuckles, realizing that might be <em>exactly</em> what Bitty plans to do when he finally makes it to France.</p><p>“I <em>plan</em>,” Bitty says haughtily, “to have my handsome French-Canadian soulmate do all the talking.”</p><p>That gets an actual laugh of of Jack, despite his exhaustion. “Bittle, when have you ever let me do all the talking?”</p><p>They talk a bit longer, until their yawns begin to punctuate the pauses between replies. Jack turns off the light and adjusts the pillows, cursing hotel pillows for simultaneously being too soft and too flat. He counts to fall asleep: one day until his next game, three days until he gets to sleep in his own bed, a week until he sees Bitty.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Mr. Zimmermann,” Bitty says, in the voice he uses when he’s very pleased with Jack, “there are flowers in my kitchen.”</p><p>“It’s a kitchen, Bittle,” Jack says, playing dumb. “Where else would you put the flour?”</p><p>“<em>Flowers</em>, you goose. Or <em>fleurs</em>, if you must,” Bitty says, his Southern accent colliding with the French pronunciation. “In my kitchen,” he repeats. He waits a beat. “What do you have to say for yourself?”</p><p>“Congratulations.”</p><p>“Fif<em>teen</em> bouquets, Jack.”</p><p>“They were on sale. And I thought fifteen, because of your number,” Jack explains, realizing that admitting he got a great deal is not exactly romantic and also that that fifteen dozen roses may have been overkill. Except … he’s in Philly and he can’t take Bitty out to celebrate the goal and two assists he got in last night’s game. So he took a cue from his parents and ordered flowers.</p><p>“Honey, they’re beautiful,” Bitty says, and Jack can’t see him but he can picture his smile. “Hold on, I’m gonna take a picture. Unless you wanna see ‘em on FaceTime?”</p><p>“Sure,” Jack says, taking a seat in the hotel room’s lone chair. He runs a hand through his hair before he and Bitty reconnect.</p><p>“It’s like a florist’s shop in here,” Bitty says, angling his phone so Jack can see … literally dozens of roses. Mostly red like Jack had specified, but the florist had told him they might run out and have to fill in with other colors. That was fine with Jack. He figured Bitty would love a rainbow of roses.</p><p>“You know, this is kind of tradition now. I might just start expecting flowers every time I score,” Bitty says coyly.</p><p>“Naturally,” Jack says, already planning.</p><p>“I’m kidding! <em>Do not</em> send this many flowers every time I score. They’re beautiful but I can’t afford to give up this much space on my counters. I am gonna snag one of these bouquets to take up to my room, though.”</p><p>“Noted,” Jack says, only a little disappointed. After all, it’s not that Bitty didn’t like or appreciate the flowers. He’s more disappointed in himself for not realizing space would be an issue.</p><p>The next time Bitty scores, Jack keeps his word, sort of. He sends one bouquet of roses, and fourteen pounds of baking flour.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“There you go, Fifteen!”</p><p>Jack is finally able to make it to an SMH game for the first time since the beginning of the season and while he’s technically there to support the whole team, he hasn’t been able to take his eyes off of Bitty. He’s on fire tonight; he even hit back against a guy who was getting up in his space. It’s a good look on him. During a shift change he skates right by the section Jack and Shitty are sitting in and catches Jack’s eye.</p><p>“Calm down, Jacko,” Shitty says as Jack’s eyes follow Bitty off the ice. “There’ll be plenty of time to congratulate your boy later.”</p><p>“I’m not—” Jack starts, then pauses because he’s not sure what Shitty means.</p><p>“Almost a month, right? That’s a long time, especially when you’ve only just found out you’re soulmates. Damn. Lardo and I see each other once a week and we barely make it into the house before—”</p><p>“Okay, Shits. I get it.”</p><p>“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Bitty’s looking damn fine these days. I’d be hot and bothered too if Lardo weren’t the love of my life.”</p><p>It’s a good thing Bitty’s not on the ice right now because Jack’s not sure he has the space in his brain to pay attention to Bitty’s game <em>and</em> Shitty’s insinuation that Jack finds Bitty attractive and that they’re going to have sex later.</p><p>Or maybe it’s a bad thing, because Jack could use the distraction. Now he can’t stop thinking about how attractive Bitty is, and how much he wants the very things they’ve avoided discussing.</p><p>But Shitty doesn’t know he and Bitty aren’t having sex. Because they’ve done a great job of convincing everyone they’re soulmates who are in love. Of course Jack finds Bitty attractive. Of course they’re having sex. Why would anybody assume otherwise?</p><p>One of those things is true, anyway.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Jack Zimmermann!” The young woman who flags him down on his way to the locker room is wearing a press badge around her neck that identifies her as a reporter for <em>The Swallow</em>. “Are you here to watch your old team? How do you think they did out there tonight? Are any of your Falconers teammates here with you?”</p><p>Jack would really like to get to Bitty so he gives her what he thinks is a simple soundbite. “My soulmate played tonight. Eric Bittle, number fifteen.”</p><p>“<em>Oh</em>, Eric <em>Bittle</em>.” The reporter grins. “We’ve been working on our Fifty States of Samwell issue and between you and me, Eric Bittle is in the running for tastiest peach. If you know what I mean.”</p><p>“Euh …” Jack can feel his face grow warm. “He’s a great player. Works hard. Soft hands and quick on his feet, those are really important attributes.”</p><p>The reporter rolls her eyes. “Don’t ever change, Jack Zimmermann,” she says as she stalks off in search of, presumably, a more interesting interviewee. Jack catches a glimpse of a blond head flanked by two taller bodies head down the hall toward the locker room and follows, only getting stopped twice by fans seeking selfies.</p><p>It takes a little while for Jack to catch up to Bitty in the locker room; the new freshmen crowd around him, starstruck. He obligingly signs autographs and poses for selfies. Ransom and Holster invite him to come back to the Haus, Shitty goes off in search of Lardo, and then, finally, he’s able to catch Bitty’s eye.</p><p>“You made it!” Bitty wraps his arms around Jack’s torso and hugs him close. He’s still in his gear and his hair is damp with perspiration, but Jack doesn’t care.</p><p>“‘Course I did. You looked good out there.”</p><p>“I had a great coach. All that practice over the summer. Not everyone gets to practice with a NHL star.”</p><p>“I heard he was really hard on you.”</p><p>“He was at first, but it turns out he’s a big softie. In fact, I heard he sleeps with a stuffed rabbit.”</p><p>“Can it, lovebirds,” Ransom calls from the other side of the room. “Jack, you coming to the kegster?”</p><p>“You can stay over,” Bitty offers. “If you want.”</p><p>“Do you want to come home with me instead? We can make the rounds, say hi to everyone before we leave. I’ll drive you back tomorrow afternoon.” <em>Please let him say yes</em>, Jack thinks to himself. He’ll understand if Bitty wants to stay and celebrate with his team, and he’ll happily stay and sleep in Bitty’s twin bed. But he’d really rather spend a quiet night at home.</p><p>“One drink, and we have to stop and pick up something to eat on the way home,” Bitty says.</p><p>It’s after midnight by the time they get home with their fast food burgers and milkshakes, and Jack knows he’ll regret eating this late when he has to get up and run in a few hours. But it’s worth it to sit across the table from Bitty and see the smile on his face when Jack blows his straw wrapper at him and steals his fries.</p><p>“The tadpoles are fitting in well, I think. That Whiskey is so standoffish though; kind of reminds me of how you used to be, ‘cept he hangs out with the LAX bros and you would <em>never</em>. Tango is his total opposite, yet somehow they get on. And… What—?”</p><p>“Hm?” Jack pops a fry in his mouth.</p><p>“Why’re you smiling like that?”</p><p>“I missed you. I missed your stories.”</p><p>“Well, if you missed my stories… Did I tell you Lardo and the boys signed up for a single-credit wilderness skills course? Holster thinks it’ll come in handy if he ever has to fight a bear. I have a feeling it’s going to be more like what plants not to touch and how to dress minor wounds.”</p><p>“Maybe not so minor if Holster decides to fight a bear.”</p><p>“I think that’s why Lardo and Ransom are taking the class with him. I swear, that boy has more teeth than he has sense sometimes.” Bitty reaches across the table for Jack’s milkshake and takes a sip.</p><p>“Starting to regret getting vanilla instead of chocolate?” Jack chirps.</p><p>“It just makes sense to get one of each and share,” Bitty says, handing Jack his own cup. “I don’t see you complaining about my vanilla.”</p><p>When Bitty starts yawning and his eyes start getting heavy, Jack remembers he just played in a hockey game and takes it as a cue to get ready for bed.</p><p>And that’s what they do. Jack’s always been good at compartmentalizing things, and the fleeting thoughts he had during Bitty’s game aren’t something he can do anything about tonight. It’s a conversation he and Bitty should have sooner rather than later, but he can’t just spring it on him. A physical relationship was never part of this arrangement. Bitty might not even want that. Until tonight, Jack had no idea <em>he</em> wanted that.</p><p>Bitty falls asleep right away, but Jack can’t turn off his mind. He settles Señor Bun on his chest and worries at one of his ears; the well-loved fabric is smooth, almost silky, and Jack wonders how many nights Bitty has lain awake doing the same. Next to him Bitty’s breathing is deep and even. Usually it helps Jack fall sleep but tonight it just adds to the noise in his head.</p><p>He tries to focus on safe, familiar things. He and Bitty will spend tomorrow morning together doing the things they usually do when they have Sunday mornings together: run, prep Jack’s meals for the week, get brunch with Lardo and Shitty. And then Jack will drop Bitty off at the Haus and they’ll be apart. It will be two weeks, at least, before they’re able to see each other.</p><p>Jack loves the life he’s made in Providence. He’s living his dream. He’s closer to his parents than he’s ever been, he has good friends and a supportive team. It should be enough. A year ago, it would have been enough.</p><p>But.</p><p>Something’s missing.</p><p>It’s almost ridiculous because Bitty is <em>right here</em>. But the longer this goes on, the more Jack realizes that Bitty’s the most important person in his life. Which he’s known for a while, but it didn’t feel like this before.</p><p>Or maybe it’s always felt like this and Jack is finally able to put a name to the feeling.</p><p>He allowed their arrangement to become a substitute for the work of actually maintaining a relationship, but at some point it became a real relationship. Everything they do together—dinners when they’re both home, events that require a plus-one, their post-game phone calls, cuddling on the couch after a long day—that’s <em>real</em>. And Jack doesn’t want it any other way.</p><p>Well. He can think of a few other things he’d like to add to the list of things they do together. But it’s not sex that’s driving this sudden need to tell Bitty he wants more. He wants more because they <em>are</em> more, and whatever story they’ve been telling themselves and everyone else suddenly feels like the lie it is. Lying to everybody else may be working, but he can’t lie to himself. Not anymore. Now that he knows it, he can never not know it.</p><p>He’s in love with Bitty.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Things Bitty finds easy about being Jack’s “soulmate”:</p><ul>
<li>Living with Jack (it may be on a very part-time basis right now, but it counts)</li>
<li>Cooking for Jack</li>
<li>Staying up too late and watching World War II documentaries with Jack when Jack’s too anxious to sleep and Bitty’s too wired from the coffee he drank at three in the afternoon</li>
</ul><p>Things that are harder:</p><ul>
<li>Pretending like it’s enough</li>
</ul><p> </p><hr/><p><br/>It’s not like Bitty has any right to complain. He knew what this was when Jack suggested it. So what if he still has a crush on Jack! So what if his mind sometimes wanders beyond their boundaries and he thinks about what Jack’s stubble would feel like against his cheek, what Jack’s big hands would feel like on his bare skin. Those are fantasies he can indulge in when he’s alone. And he does. Frequently.</p><p>Here’s the thing: Jack is extremely loyal, and he does all the right things. He sends flowers to the Haus when Bitty scores during a game, takes him out when they both have a free weekend evening, and enthusiastically talks to Bitty’s parents on the phone. When reporters ask him about his soulmate, his smile changes from his stoic media smile to his rarer, genuine smile.</p><p>Jack Zimmermann may not be in love with Bitty, but he’s definitely not in love with anybody else, either.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It’s New Year’s Eve and Bitty should be getting ready for one of the biggest events of his life. Jack and a couple of his teammates are some of the local “celebrities” who have been invited to appear on a local TV station’s “Countdown to the New Year” special, and each has been asked to being a guest to take part in the final countdown to midnight. Bitty even has a new suit for the occasion, a gift from MooMaw when she found out he was going to be “on the TV.”</p><p>He’s <em>supposed</em> to be getting ready, but instead he’s huddled in a miserable lump on the couch. What started yesterday as a scratchy throat and hoarse voice that he initially chalked up to overuse from filming his latest video has turned into a full-on cold, complete with fever, chills, and pounding headache.</p><p>“Bits, are you wearing—” Jack wanders into the living room, halfway to dressed in his freshly pressed suit pants and unbuttoned dress shirt, and stops cold when he sees Bitty camped out on the couch. “Euh, are you getting ready soon?” he tries again.</p><p>“I think I’m gonna have to be a no-show tonight,” Bitty confesses. “Even if I could make it to midnight, I don’t wanna get anyone sick.”</p><p>Jack frowns and plops down on the couch next to Bitty, the sudden jostling rattling Bitty’s brain and causing him to wince in pain. “You might have a fever,” Jack says, palm to Bitty’s forehead. “Why didn’t you tell me you felt bad?”</p><p>“’Cause I felt okay when you left for your workout earlier,” Bitty mumbles, eyes closed. A half-dressed Jack Zimmermann is a sight he hates to miss, but he’s trying to conserve energy. “Then I made those sugar cookies to take tonight and it just about wiped me out. I feel like I got hit by a truck.”</p><p>“Okay. We’ll stay home.”</p><p>“Jack, no. Don’t stay home on my account. I’ll take some Tylenol and rest. Look,” Bitty says, pulling out his phone, “I’ll set an alarm so I don’t miss your spot on TV.” He nudges Jack’s thigh with his foot. “Go on, you’re gonna be late.”</p><p>“Nuh-uh,” Jack says, rising from the couch and already pulling off his shirt. “You’re sick. I’ll text George and tell her we can’t make it. I don’t really want to go anyway. They’ll probably make me wear a stupid hat. And you’ve been here all week; if you’re sick, I’m probably sick.”</p><p>Ugh, that just makes Bitty feel worse. Jack can’t afford to get sick in the middle of the season.He especially can’t afford to get sick and take the rest of the team down with him. “<em>Jack</em>,” he whines. “you don’t have to stay.”</p><p>“You’re so stubborn,” Jack says. “Just let me take care of you for once, Bittle. Besides, who will I kiss at midnight if you aren’t there?”</p><p>“Ha ha,” Bitty manages, well aware that this event probably <em>was</em> his one shot at a kiss to ring in the new year. Or a kiss at all. He and Jack are affectionate enough in public, enough to avoid suspicion, but they’ve respected the boundaries they’ve been working within since the beginning. The affection they show each other, in public and at home, is intimate yet chaste: hand holding, cheek kisses, an affectionate touch here and there.</p><p>Bitty loves Jack <em>so much</em>, but he also knows what this is.</p><p>Jack fixes the blankets around Bitty and disappears. When he returns a few minutes later he’s changed into his comfy clothes and has Señor Bun in hand. “I texted George,” he says, tucking Bun into Bitty’s blanket cocoon. “She said it’s no problem. Tater’s going to go instead. He’ll be better on camera anyway.”</p><p>“But you’re Jack Zimmermann,” Bitty protests. “You’re the one everyone wants to see.” </p><p>“And you’re sick,” Jack says in a tone that makes it clear he’s not going to discuss this anymore. He turns the TV on and places the remote within Bitty’s reach. “I’ll go get you some tea.”</p><p>Defeated, Bitty burrows deeper into his blankets and closes his eyes, focusing on Jack in the kitchen instead of whatever’s on TV. He hears cupboards open and close, the electric kettle come to a boil.</p><p>“Here,” Jack says. Bitty’s eyes fly open. He must have fallen asleep.</p><p>“What is it?” Bitty asks, cautiously taking the mug Jack’s offering. It’s Bitty’s favorite, the one with a line drawing of a pie on one side and the slogan “Pie for breakfast” on the other.</p><p>“It’s that tea Tater gave me last month when I thought I was getting a cold. Remember, ‘traditional Russian cure?’”</p><p>Bitty makes a face. He remembers. It had smelled vile, and he’d joked about how it would put hair on Jack’s chest. “Not that you need it,” he’d said saucily. It was dangerously close to flirting.</p><p>“Did it work?” he asks.</p><p>“I didn’t get sicker,” Jack says. “Just drink it.”</p><p>It takes Bitty two minutes to work up the nerve to sip at the foul-smelling liquid, the entire duration of which he mentally curses Tater for this “gift.” All that pie he’s been sending in with Jack, and this is the thanks he gets?</p><p>“Gah!” Bitty shudders as he swallows the last of the tea and wills it not to come back up. He thrusts the mug at Jack. “Take it away.”</p><p>Jack just smiles bemusedly and takes the mug into the kitchen. When he returns it’s with a plate of cold chicken tenders and kale salad leftover from last night’s dinner. He parks himself on the couch next to Bitty.</p><p>Bitty dozes off and on all evening, waking every so often to pay attention to a few minutes of whatever Jack is watching. He does feel slightly less achy, though he’s not ready to give all the credit to Tater’s mystery medicine. It’s probably the Tylenol.</p><p>“We can skip the champagne, but do you want to watch the guys count down to midnight?” Jack asks at a quarter ’til.</p><p>“Might as well see what we’re missing,” Bitty says, sitting up just a little.</p><p>They tune in to Tater and Snowy counting down the top 10 Falconers goals of the season with Vanessa Reyes, the sports reporter who covers the Falcs.</p><p>“Nice one,” Bitty says as they cut to Jack scoring against the Aces.</p><p>“That was a good one, Jack agrees.</p><p>Next up are the top ten local desserts (“You’ll be up there in a few years,” Jack predicts), special events, and news stories of 2015 (Jack signing with the Falconers is number seven).</p><p>“What a year! Who knows what’s in store for 2016!” Vanessa enthuses as the last clip fades out and a 60-second countdown clock appears on the screen.</p><p>“A Stanley Cup!” Tater shouts, to raucous hoots and laughter.</p><p>“You heard the man,” Bitty says, nudging Jack with as much effort as he can muster. Jack just wraps an arm around Bitty’s shoulder.</p><p>“I’ll try,” Jack promises.</p><p>The clocks ticks over from 11:59 to midnight.</p><p>On TV, everybody is toasting with champagne and kissing. Including, Bitty notes, Tater and Vanessa. It’s not something he has time to process because Jack is looking at him intently, their faces inches apart.</p><p>“How about that New Year’s kiss?” he asks, tilting Bitty’s face toward his. Jack’s voice is low and rumbly and Bitty must be hallucinating because he’s never seen this look in Jack’s eyes before. He’s seen mean Jack, happy Jack, concerned Jack. This is … well, it’s hard to get a good read on it because Bitty’s not used to being desired. But that’s what he thinks he sees. Desire, and a little bit of … fear?</p><p>“I don’t want you to get sick,” Bitty whispers. It’s hardly a protest.</p><p>Jack nods but doesn’t change course. Instead, he closes the last of the distance between them and presses the most impossibly gentle kiss to Bitty’s lips. “Was that okay?”</p><p>Bitty’s heart is pounding so hard he thinks the neighborhood must be able to hear it, even above the sound of distant fireworks and neighbors who have run out onto their balconies to yell and bang pots and pans. Bitty nods but Jack still looks uncertain so Bitty places a hand on each side of Jack’s face. He tries to memorize the way Jack’s stubble feels, rough against his palms, and way his eyes look when he’s looking at Bitty, blown pupils in a sea of icy blue. “Honey, of course it’s okay.”</p><p>Jack releases a breath and smiles a little shakily. “I wasn’t sure.” He kisses him again, on the forehead. Bitty’s eyes flutter closed and he drops a feather-light kiss on each eyelid. When he finally pulls away Bitty’s embarrassed to hear himself whine in disappointment.</p><p>“You <em>are</em> sick,” Jack says, the note of disappointment in his voice evident. Bitty slumps against Jack. He <em>is</em>, and he’s not above pouting to get his way.</p><p>“Also,” Jack murmurs, “you taste like that tea.” And that should <em>not</em> sound so sexy, but it does.</p><p>“You’re a jerk,” Bitty mutters, delivering a light punch to Jack’s bicep.</p><p>“Yeah,” Jack agrees, snaking an arm around Bitty’s waist.</p><p>Bitty allows himself to imagine, just for a moment, what it would be like to be all dressed up and slow dancing with Jack at the New Year’s Eve party. To be held by those strong arms and rest his head on that broad chest. To know that everybody who sees them believes they belong together.</p><p>Somehow, it doesn’t seem half as perfect as this.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Part of Bitty expects Jack to say it was all a mistake, it was just some New Year’s Eve thing that doesn’t have to mean anything. If he does, Bitty will agree that he was out of his mind with fever and can’t be held responsible for his actions.</p><p>But Jack doesn’t. So Bitty doesn’t either.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Everything changes after New Year’s Eve. It’s not a big change, just a subtle shift, barely noticeable if you don’t know what to look for. It’s like those “Spot the Differences” puzzles in the <em>Highlights</em> magazines at Bitty’s old pediatrician’s office. This ladybug has four spots and this one has five; if you glance too quickly they look exactly the same.</p><p>When Jack places his hand on the small of Bitty’s back in public, when they hold hands in front of their friends or kiss each other on the cheek, nothing is different. It’s the same as it’s always been, comfortable and familiar. But when Jack turns to Bitty in bed and kisses him goodnight, it doesn’t feel the same at all. Jack kisses with an intention that wasn’t there before and Bitty kisses back, learning as they go.</p><p>Friends with limited benefits isn’t everything, but it’s more than what he had before. Bitty wonders if that four-spotted ladybug knows there’s another version of herself that is almost-but-not-quite identical. Does she know what she’s missing? Now that Bitty knows what he’s been missing, he’s not sure he can go back.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Bitty’s pulling a tray of cupcakes out of the oven when he hears the door slam. Jack’s steps sound heavier than usual as he approaches the kitchen. It’s near midnight; the Falcs managed to eke out an overtime win against Boston but it was hard fought. Jack took a hard hit in the middle of the third period. Bitty watched it on TV, heart in his throat, as his first batch of cupcakes burned.</p><p>“Y’all played a good game,” Bitty says. “You hungry? I saved a plate for you.”</p><p>“No thanks,” Jack says. “Not hungry.”</p><p>“You have to eat,” Bitty says, opening the fridge and taking out Jack’s plate. “I can reheat it for you.”</p><p>Jack huffs out a grunt. “Yeah, fine.”</p><p>“But you’ve gotta keep an ear out for the timer because I’ve been baking all evening and I need to change out of these clothes real quick.</p><p>“Do you need help?” Jack asks, leaning against the counter.</p><p>“Changing clothes?” Bitty asks, trying for saucy but erring just this side of exhausted. It’s been that kind of evening. He hadn’t planned on being in Providence tonight but his current baking project is too big for the Haus kitchen. Being able to be home for Jack may have played a role in that decision.</p><p>“With whatever you’re baking.”</p><p>“Not as much as you need to eat and rest,” Bitty scolds. The Falcs are well-positioned to make it to the post-season and Jack is starting to look a little worse for the wear, the toll of the past several months making itself visible in the shadows under his eyes and more-prominent-than-usual cheek bones. Bitty was surprised by it that first year at Samwell, but it’s somehow worse now that Jack’s in the NHL. At least Bitty planned for it, sort of. He bought Jack a new type of protein powder that supposedly has added antioxidants, and he makes a big batch of homemade protein bars to leave behind every time he visits for the weekend. It’s not enough. It won’t be enough, Bitty knows, until the Falconers advance to the playoffs or they don’t, because it’s not just the punishing schedule that’s running Jack ragged, it’s also Jack’s anxiety. “I don’t want to be alone,” Jack says simply. “I like watching you. It’s relaxing.”</p><p>Bitty can’t help but smile. “Well, as long as it’s helping you.”</p><p>“What <em>are </em>you baking this late?”</p><p>“Cupcakes. Carrie Robinson called me in a tizzy a couple hours ago. Princess’ birthday is tomorrow and the bakery that was making the cupcakes for her class party flooded earlier today. Burst pipe or something. I don’t have class until tomorrow afternoon, so I figured I could get them done tonight and head back tomorrow morning after I drop them off.”</p><p>“That’s too bad,” Jack says. “I mean, good for you, but kinda sucks for the bakery.”</p><p>“I’m just happy I can help out. It breaks my heart to think of that poor little girl’s birthday being ruined.”</p><p>“They’re paying you, right?”</p><p>“I told Carrie this one’s on me,” Bitty says sheepishly. “I know, I know!” he says, cutting Jack off before he can scold him. “I’m not letting them take advantage. She <em>offered</em>. I told her that all I want is for her to give my card to the other parents if they like them. Just think, there are 25 kids in her class, and a lot of them probably have siblings … Jack, that could be a party a week!”</p><p>Jack chuckles. “You should be majoring in marketing instead of American history. Or self-promotion.”</p><p>“For all the good <em>your</em> history degree is doing you right now, maybe I should. Or I should’ve just gone to pastry school. Of course, if I’d done that we wouldn’t have met, so it’s probably for the better.” Bitty tries to catch Jack’s eye but he’s just staring at some point in the distance. “Sweetheart, do you feel okay?”</p><p>Bitty’s voice seems to bring Jack back from wherever he went. He makes eye contact with Bitty; that’s a good thing. It means he’s not so far gone that he’ll be ruined for tomorrow. “Will you just sit with me for a little while?” Jack asks.</p><p>When Bitty and Jack were in Montreal over the holidays, Alicia told Bitty that when Jack was a little boy he used to ask to snuggle with her on the couch when he was feeling bad. She’d said it so casually, like it was just another cute story about Jack’s childhood, but he’d understood why she chose to tell him. Bitty leaves the plate of food on the counter and follows Jack into the living room, lets Jack pull him into his lap on the couch. He lets Jack bury his face in the soft fabric of his hoodie and just breathe.</p><p>Sometimes Bitty thinks about how people who only see the social media edit of their lives would react if they could see them in these most private moments. Even true soulmates must have things they don’t speak about, the hardships even their closest friends don’t see. Bitty knows his parents wanted more children. Jack’s parents almost lost their only child. Is that what makes it real? Breathing together through the bad stuff when the good stuff is in short supply?</p><p>Sometimes Bitty wishes he could do more, make all of this go away for Jack, but Jack always tells him that simply being here for him is enough.</p><p>It’s enough for Jack, so Bitty tries to let it be enough for himself.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Mama calls in early April.</p><p>The conversation begins like any other. They’re in their respective kitchens making salted caramel blondies “together” when Mama drops it into the conversation, all casual: “Your cousin Kayla’s gone and gotten married and now your aunt is in a tizzy trying to plan a reception. I expect it’ll be sometime this summer.”</p><p>“Well, just let us know,” Bitty says, half distracted as he tries to pour a level amount of vanilla into his measuring spoon. “Jack and I are thinking of spending a few weeks up at the cabin with his family but nothing’s set in stone yet. And yes,” he adds before Mama can ask, “we’ve blocked out Fourth of July week to visit y’all.”</p><p>“If your cousin has any sense, she’ll plan her reception for then since everybody will already be in town. It’s not like she can wait much longer if she doesn’t want to be showing,” Mama says, and Bitty suddenly understands that this is <em>that</em> kind of wedding. He rolls his eyes at Mama’s dramatics. Kayla is a grown woman working on a PhD in physics. He’s sure she doesn’t care about what the family back in Georgia thinks about the reason for her quickie wedding.</p><p>“I didn’t even know Kayla’d met her soulmate,” he says. He hasn’t talked to her much since she moved out to California; she’s kind of like Jack and doesn’t “do” social media.</p><p>“Well,” Mama says, lowering her voice as though she’s not alone in her kitchen, “that’s a scandal in itself. On top of going and getting herself knocked up out in California, your cousin’s baby daddy isn’t even her soulmate.” Mama sighs. “Judy says I’m old fashioned and kids these days don’t care that much about that. Your daddy, too. He says we need to just be nice and welcome Murali—that’s his name—into the family.”</p><p>Bitty suddenly feels like he has a throat full of sawdust.</p><p>“Mama—” he says, voice cracking. He coughs into his elbow and tries again. “Mama, are you sayin’ Kayla and her new husband aren’t soulmates?”</p><p>“Well, of course they aren’t. Kayla’s unmarked. You know that. That’s why we were so worried about you. Judy seemed to think it was some genetic thing. She even paid a bunch of money to one of those testing companies, which I think is a scam, and researched our family tree. I told her she was on a fool’s errand because she never did turn up any relatives other than a cousin twice removed who never married. Apparently this Murali doesn’t have a soulmark either; where he comes from they aren’t as common, or so Judy says. Maybe she’s right about the genetic thing.”</p><p>Bitty feels something wet and slimy dripping down his wrist and and looks down to discover he’s crushed an egg in the palm of his hand. “I most certainly <em>did not</em> know Kayla’s unmarked,” he hisses.</p><p>“Of course you do. You remember she was all set to go to prom with Billy Granger and he called it off because he met his soulmate the week before the dance? Your poor cousin was devastated.”</p><p>Bitty remembers that, of course. Kayla’s five years older and he’d been in middle school at the time. “But that’s all I knew, that he met his soulmate. I didn’t know that Kayla’s unmarked! Mother, nobody in our family has ever talked about this! Every time I worried about my mark not coming in, every single time, you told me not to worry because all Bittles and Phelpses have soulmates!” Bitty’s thankful he decided to spend the weekend in Providence because the last thing he needs right now is a kitchen full of concerned hockey boys wondering why he’s having a conniption.</p><p>“We do,” Mama says calmly. “When Judy didn’t find anything in all that research we all figured it was a fluke. Dicky, I don’t know why you’re so upset. It wouldn’t have done any good to talk about it and worry you.”</p><p>“But I <em>was</em> worried! Ever since I was twelve or thirteen and you all started wondering when I would get my mark, then <em>if</em> I would get my mark! You were all so concerned and you never once said it would be okay if it never happened, or told me I’m not the only one. You didn’t even want me to date!”</p><p>“Because we all saw Kayla to get her hopes up every time she met somebody she liked and we didn’t want you to go through all that.”</p><p>Bitty swallows hard and blinks back the tears that are already flowing. How could he have gotten it so wrong? He’s not crazy, he knows that. Whatever Mama is talking about has got to be some revisionist history.</p><p>“Anyway, it all worked out just fine because even if your mark had come in early, you and Jack didn’t meet until much later,” Mama continues.</p><p>“Mama, Jack and I—” Bitty swallows again. “We’re not—”</p><p>“Not what, honey?”</p><p>“Jack’s not my soulmate. He’s not marked. Neither am I. I couldn’t tell you because you <em>always</em> made it seem like not having a soulmark was the worst thing that could happen to somebody.” Darn it! Now there are egg shells <em>and</em> tears in this batter. He’ll have to start over.</p><p>“Dicky, what are you talking about? You were here with Jack, we saw you together.”</p><p>“It’s all pretend, Mama! Jack and I are together, but we aren’t … <em>together.</em> We aren’t really soulmates. <em>I never got my soulmark</em>.”</p><p>“Well, that’s okay.” Bitty can hear Mama rapidly stirring her batter, her wooden spoon occasionally hitting the sides of the Pyrex mixing bowl with a familiar <em>thunk</em> that takes Bitty back to the days he used to stand on a step stool by her side. “That’s just fine. There’s no need to get upset about it. I’m still not sure I understand, but we can figure this all out. You know we love you, and Jack too of course.”</p><p>“I know you do, Mama.”</p><p>“Dicky, we just want you to be happy. This doesn’t change anything,” Mama says. Bitty wants so badly to believe her.</p><p>“I need to go,” he says. “I can’t talk right now.”</p><p>“But we haven’t even finished these blondies,” Mama says, disappointed.</p><p>“I mixed up some of the ingredients and need to start over. You go ahead and finish yours and send a picture.”</p><p>Bitty doesn’t even bother to clean up his mess, just pushes his mixing bowl off to the side and washes his hands. His head is close to bursting with too many thoughts to focus on baking right now. Instead, he crawls into bed and hugs Señor Bun close.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It doesn’t change anything.</p><p>It changes everything.</p><p>If Bitty had known all this time that in the end, his parents <em>just want him to be happy</em>, he wouldn’t have had to hide. He could have been open about his status. He could have gone on dates. Maybe he even could have had a no-strings-attached fling with somebody who doesn’t care about soulmate fidelity.</p><p>Well, it’s useless to go down that road now because he doesn’t even want those things. At the end of the day, he’d rather have whatever it is he and Jack have than a purely physical relationship with somebody else.</p><p>Because at the end of the day, Bitty still wants Jack.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Bitty? Bits, are you—?”</p><p>Bitty peels his eyes open, feeling disoriented and unsettled from sleeping so long in the middle of the day. Based on the muted, golden-hued view outside the bedroom window, it’s not even day anymore. He’s been out for most of the afternoon.</p><p>“There’s a bowl of dough in the kitchen, did you run out of something? I can run to the store if you—” Jack stops short in their bedroom doorway. He lets his duffel slide from his shoulder to the floor as he takes in the scene before him. “Is everything okay, bud?”</p><p>Bitty shakes his head. No. Yes. He’s not sure if Mama’s news is for the worst or the best. “I talked to Mama today,” he starts.</p><p>In an instant, Jack is by Bitty’s side. “Everyone is okay, right? MooMaw got her tests back from the doctor last week, right? He said everything is fine. Did they find—”</p><p>Bless this man for being so sweet. Bitty truly hadn’t expected Jack would come to love his family as much as he does. He and MooMaw, especially, have become quite close in the few months since Bitty introduced him to the family. She texts him after every game. “MooMaw’s fine,” Bitty reassures Jack. “It’s my cousin Kayla. She’s getting married this summer. Or, she got married. She’s planning a summer reception back home.”</p><p>Jack frowns. “Are you worried about not being able to make it? We can rearrange our schedule; my parents won’t mind if we want to go to the cabin a different week.”</p><p>“No, no,” Bitty says. He might as well get it all out. “Kayla didn’t marry her soulmate. She doesn’t have one. She’s unmarked, like me.”</p><p>“I thought—”</p><p>“I just found out myself. Nobody wanted to tell me. It’s been a big secret all these years. And my parents are … okay with it? Jack,” Bitty says, voice breaking, “my parents are totally okay with it.”</p><p>Jack hugs Bitty to him. “Bits. I know you must have mixed feelings about finding out this way but … that’s great news, right?”</p><p>“No,” Bitty sobs into Jack’s shirt. “It’s not.”</p><p>Jack doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t say anything, just rubs Bitty’s back in gentle circles and lets him cry until he feels ready to talk. That’s one of the things Bitty loves best about Jack: He knows that sometimes there are no words.</p><p>When Bitty’s all cried out he peels himself away from Jack and sits back. “I’m sorry,” he says sheepishly.</p><p>“Don’t be sorry.” Jack slides off the bed and helps Bitty to his feet. “Do you want some water?”</p><p>Bitty swallows a residual sob and nods. When he sees the state he left the kitchen in, he almost laughs. No wonder Jack immediately knew something was wrong. The mixing bowl and all his ingredients are still where he left them, and there’s broken egg mess all over the counter. Jack quietly gets a sponge and begins wiping the counter down as Bitty sips at his water.</p><p>“All right,” Jack says once he’s cleared the counter of egg yolk and flour and set the mixing bowl in the sink. “Do you feel like talking about it?”</p><p>Bitty talks to the water inside his glass because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to look Jack in the eye and say what he needs to say without crying (again). He desperately wishes he weren’t so in love with Jack, because if he weren’t in love with Jack, this wouldn’t be so hard. “These past few months have been the best of my life,” he begins.</p><p>“Mine too,” Jack readily agrees.</p><p>“And that’s why it’s so hard for me to talk about this. I understand if you want to call it off. Things have changed. Now that we know we don’t have to worry about my parents, there’s no reason to do this anymore. We can stop pretending.”</p><p>Bitty’s never understood, until now, what people meant when they called silence “deafening.”</p><p>“Bitty,” Jack finally says, “I <em>want</em> to stop pretending. We should be able to be open about our relationship. I think it’s great that we don’t have to hide it from your parents anymore. But it sounds to me like … you think that’s a bad thing?”</p><p>“No!” Bitty knows he’s not doing a good job of explaining this. “Now that I know my parents won’t disown me, I want to be open about being unmarked. I’m just upset because it has to end.”</p><p>Now Jack looks utterly bewildered. “Why?”</p><p>“Because you can stop feeling sorry for me now!” Bitty explodes. “You never wanted a soulmate, you just thought this arrangement would be easier for both of us. But now things have changed so if you want an out, here’s your out. You don’t have to worry about what’s gonna happen to me because my parents know now and they’re <em>obviously</em> fine with it.”</p><p>(In the back of his mind, Bitty realizes his anger should be directed at his parents, not poor Jack, but he can’t deal with that now when he’s trying to protect his heart from more damage.)</p><p>“If you want to go back to being alone, you can,” Bitty continues. “Or, I don’t know, now you can find somebody else who needs a soulmate. I just hope we can be friends again, someday. The way we were. Because you’re still my best friend no matter what.”</p><p>Jack immediately stiffens. “Is that what you think this is? That you’re some sort of … charity project for me?”</p><p>“You said you were fine being alone. That first time we ever talked about soulmates, you said you expected to be alone forever.”</p><p>“Jesus, Bittle, if I wanted to be alone, I would be alone.” There’s a hard edge to Jack’s voice, one Bitty hasn’t heard since his frog year. “Do you really think that this, all of it, is fake?”</p><p>Bitty follows Jack’s gaze around the kitchen and takes it all in: the red stand mixer they bought together, the containers of protein powder stacked in one corner of the counter, the little rabbit salt and pepper shakers that Jack likes to pose in different locations around the kitchen for Bitty to find each time he comes over.</p><p>“Isn’t it? Would we even be here if either of us were marked?”</p><p>“Fuck, I hope so. I love you, Bittle.”</p><p>Bitty drops his water glass. As he watches it shatter into a million pieces, he feels his heart remaking itself into something new. “You … love me?” he whispers.</p><p>“You can doubt me if you want, but I don’t love you because of marks that say we belong to each other. I love you because you sing in the shower and wear socks to bed because your feet get cold. I love you because you take care of me, even when I’m a grumpy asshole. <em>Especially</em> when I’m a grumpy asshole. I love you because you’re the bravest person I know: You had every reason to quit hockey and stop trusting me after I made that call, but you pushed through your fear and became one of the most valuable members of the team. I love you because you always save a slice of pie for me after I say I don’t want any, because you know I’m going to want it later. I love you because you dragged me to three stores because you needed <em>this </em>specific thing —” Jack looks at the object he’s just picked up from the counter “—what is this again?”</p><p>“It’s a Microplane,” Bitty whispers.</p><p>“You had to have this Microplane, <em>this one</em>, and you dragged me into three stores to find it and I loved every minute of it because it was with you. I would have gone into ten stores with you that day because it made you happy. I am madly, stupidly in love with you and it has nothing to do with some stupid soulmark and everything to do with <em>you</em>. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner but I didn’t know it myself for the longest time and—”</p><p>“Jack. <em>Jack</em>.” Bitty carefully steps over the shards of glass at his feet and catches Jack’s wrist in his hand. With his free hand he gently removes the Microplane and sets it back on the counter. “You’re ridiculous, you’re gonna hurt someone waving it around like that.” He chances a glance at Jack’s face. He looks absolutely wrecked.</p><p>“I love you, Bitty.”</p><p>“Oh honey, me too.” Bitty whispers. “I’ve been loving you for a long time.” It’s so absurd Bitty almost wants to laugh. For as long as he’s been in love with Jack, is this really the first time he’s said it out loud? “We’re both such fools. We could have been together—<em>really</em> together—this whole time if we’d just talked about our feelings.”</p><p>Jack’s laughing now too, somewhat improbably given how angry he was just a seconds ago. “I thought we were getting somewhere when I started kissing you and you didn’t tell me to stop. My dad told me that all relationships take work,” he says, “and I was so focused on trying to make us work that I forgot part of that work is communicating.”</p><p>“I think we could both work on that,” Bitty admits. He loosely wraps his arms around Jack’s waist and rests his chin on Jack’s chest. “I wanted you so bad,” he says looking up at him, “not a soulmate, but <em>you</em>. And then you asked me to do this and I thought it was the only way I’d be able to have you.”</p><p>“Never,” Jack promises. “I want you in every way. Always.”</p><p>“<em>Every</em> way?” Bitty asks. He’s pretty sure he knows where this conversation is going to end, but he doesn’t want to be wrong.</p><p>“Every way,” Jack repeats, pulling Bitty against him and confirming his intention with a kiss. It starts out sweet, like most of their kisses, and turns into something more urgent.</p><p>Jack doesn’t break their connection as wraps an arm around Bitty’s waist and lifts him onto the counter. Good lord, he’s strong. “<em>Jack</em>,” Bitty whines as Jack drags his lips down his neck. At the rate things are progressing he’s not going to last long—Jack isn’t going to either, by the looks of him—and though he’s entertained a fantasy or two about being ravished in the kitchen, the sink full of dishes and broken glass on the floor sort of kill the mood. There should be candles, at least.</p><p>Bitty’s hands find their way underneath Jack’s shirt; he begins to tug it up but runs into a snag when he realizes that in order to fully remove it, he’ll have to stop kissing Jack. And now that they can do this, <em>really</em> do this, he’s loath to do that.</p><p>He can feel Jack’s smile. “Need a little help, bud?” he asks against Bitty’s lips.</p><p>“Mm,” Bitty hums. <em>Not yet</em>, is what he means. Jack takes the hint and resumes kissing him, finding sensitive spots on Bitty’s neck that Bitty never knew existed but certainly isn’t going to forget about now.</p><p>“Bedroom?” Jack finally gasps, after ten minutes or an hour. Time has lost all meaning, but it’s dark outside now.</p><p>“Bedroom,” Bitty agrees. He’s not expecting to be carried to bed, but Jack does that. Lord, is there anything this man does that isn’t sexy?</p><p>The brief walk from the kitchen to the bedroom seems to shift the mood a bit, and when Jack gently sets Bitty down on the bed he suddenly feels shy. Maybe Jack does too because he sits next to Bitty and instead of picking up where they left off he looks Bitty in the eye. “Hi,” he whispers.</p><p>“Hi,” Bitty says, giggling a little.</p><p>“Just so we’re on the same page,” Jack says, “before we do anything else, this is really what you want? Because I can wait if you want to wait. Or if you never—”</p><p>“Oh my lord, Jack, of <em>course</em> I want. Yes. Absolutely. Every day, probably, if everything is always gonna be as good as whatever that there in the kitchen was.”</p><p>“I’ll try.” Jack smirks. “May be difficult if we make the finals. Have to keep my stamina up.”</p><p>“<em>When</em> you make the finals. And nobody said you have to do all the work,” Bitty says, his hands finding the button on Jack’s jeans and working it open. “We’re a team, remember?”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Much later, when the only light in the room is from the city lights outside, Bitty rolls out of Jack’s arms and stretches. He should probably shower, maybe make something to eat since they completely skipped dinner, but Jack settles a hand on his shoulder. “Good game,” he says seriously.</p><p>“Oh my god, I hate you,” Bitty groans. “Of course you would. Of <em>course</em>. I signed up for this.” He shoves Jack, just a little, and Jack cuffs Bitty’s wrist with his free hand.</p><p>“Bits.” Jack’s not laughing now. He looks serious, the way he does in the seconds between getting the puck in position and making the shot. “I want you to know you’re it for me. It never felt right with other people. I didn’t think it would ever feel right with anybody. I thought hockey was it for me. But then you came along. And I couldn’t see it at first. I didn’t know you were going to be the best thing that ever happened to me.”</p><p>“And now?”</p><p>“Now you’re all I can see. Every time I think about my future, every version of it, you’re right there.”</p><p>“You are too, Sweetpea,” Bitty says, thinking about all the times he’s fantasized about exactly this. Not just this moment but everything that comes after, years and years of hockey and baking and loving each other. The details are fuzzy because who knows what’ll happen. Nothing is a certainty; Jack could get injured or traded tomorrow. And there’s still so much they haven’t talked about: what Bitty’s going to do after he graduates, if they should get a dog or cat, whether they’ll stay in this condo forever or get something with a yard for the hypothetical dog and cat and eventual kids. They still have so much to talk about, and through, but it’s too much to think about right now, when Bitty would be happy to stay in this bed forever. One thing that is certain, though, is that the future looks a lot brighter now than it did this morning.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Eric Bittle is twenty-one years old. The love of his life has just made the game winning goal in the Stanley Cup final and when Bitty flies into his arms at center ice, it’s every fairytale ending he didn’t dare hope for when he thought not having a soulmark meant he’d never find his person. Now he knows better. Bitty holds onto Jack, feels the proof of him as they take each other in.</p><p>“Kiss me,” Bitty says as confetti falls around them.</p><p>Jack kisses him, and the rest of the world disappears. For a minute it’s just the two of them.</p><p>Bitty and Jack aren’t marked for each other; not visibly, anyway. But there’s no doubt in his mind that he and Jack are meant to be together. Given their rocky start, and where they are now, it’s the only logical explanation. It’s not magic. But it is a lot of hard work, and every day they make the choice to be together. Maybe it means more, because it happened this way.</p><p>“Jack! Jack Zimmermann!” An on-ice reporter rushes up to them and shoves a microphone between their faces. Bitty smiles and steps back, happy to let Jack have his moment in the sun. He’s worked so hard for this. “Congratulations!” the reporter says. “That was an amazing end to an amazing series.”</p><p>“It was a team effort,” Jack says. “It’s a talented group of guys and it took this whole organization, from top to bottom, to make this happen. The Schooners didn’t make it easy on us; they’re a great team.”</p><p>It’s a good thing Bitty’s already smiling because he’s not sure he’d be able to keep a straight face otherwise. Even in the middle of the biggest moment of his life, Jack is just so painfully earnest, and awkward, in front of reporters.</p><p>“Who are you celebrating your win with?”</p><p>“Euh …” Jack looks around the crowded rink. “My teammates, obviously. Great group of guys. And my parents are here, somewhere. I’m really glad they were able to be here for this. And Bitty, of course.” Jack looks at Bitty, eyes full of love. “This is Eric Bittle,” he says, wrapping an arm around Bitty’s waist and pulling back to his side. “He’s my soulmate.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ahh, the last chapter is here! Thank you to everybody who has read, commented on, and shared this fic. The responses to this fic--and the concept I explored in it--have been really wonderful and I love and appreciate every single one of them.<br/>I’m on Tumblr at <a href="doggernaut.tumblr.com">doggernaut</a>. Feel free to drop by and say hi!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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